o  /o 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


Unit 


£t^s2^4^z^  - 


^Z^A&^t*^^^ 

**      ~     s*~  S     /?  // 


LECTURES,    ESSAYS 


AND 


PUBLISHED    ARTICLES 


ON 


SCI1TIFIOLITERABY  SUBJECTS 


AND  ON 


FOREIGN    TRAVEL, 


BY 


C.  C.  )MERRIMAN, 


ROCHESTER,   N.  Y. 


1885. 


ROCHESTER,  N.  Y. : 

JUDSON   J.    WITH  ALL,    BOOK   AND  JOB   PRINTER,    UNION   STREET. 


M375567 


M31 


THIS  COLLECTION  OF  MY  VARIOUS  WRITINGS, 

PROBABLY  THE  ONLY  BOOK  I  SHALL  EVER 
PUBLISH, 

I  TAKE  GREAT  PLEASURE  IN   DEDICATING   TO  ONE  WHOSE 

CONSTANT  FAITH   IN  MY   SUCCESS, 

AND  GRATIFICATION  IN  THE  RESULTS,  HAVE  BEEN  THE 

CHIEF  INCENTIVES  OF  MY   LITERARY  EFFORTS, 

TO  MY   DEAR  AND  LOVING  WIFE. 


CONTENTS. 


BEYOND   THE  LIMITS   OF  VISION; 

PAGE 

OR,  THE  WORLD  BELOW  THE  MICROSCOPE.  —  The  infinitude 
of  the  stellar  universe.  —  Contrast  of  natural  with  mag- 
nified vision.  —  The  limit  of  microscopic  vision.  —  The 
evidences  of  germ  life  below  the  reach  of  the  micro- 
scope.—  How  scientists  have  got  at  the  size  and  the 
numbering  of  the  atoms.  —  The  thousands  of  millions 
of  molecules  that  are  still  in  the  smallest  object  that 
has  ever  been  seen  under  the  microscope.  —  The  recent 
theory  of  the  scientists  that  eacli  atom  is  constituted 
like  smoke  rings,  that  is  of  the  vortical  whirl  of  innu- 
merable particles  of  ether  immeasurably  smaller  than 
the  atom.  —  The  world  of  small  things  as  well  as  of 
great  merges  into  the  infinite.  -  5 

THE   POLAR  GLACIERS.     PART  I. 

There  must  be  elevations  above  the  ocean  in  the  southern 
hemisphere  sufficient  to  balance  the  great  excess  of  land 
in  the  northern.  —  Other  evidences  of  an  enormous  ice- 
cap at  the  South  Pole.  —  Astronomical  causes  for  the 
alternate  glaciation  of  the  two  polar  regions.  —  The 
period  is  21,000  years.  —  The  northern  hemisphere  is 
now  in  the  midst  of  its  great  secular  summer.  —  In 
10,500  years  it  will  be  as  much  covered  with  water  and 
ice  as  the  southern  is  now.  —  Former  periods  have  been 
of  far  greater  severity  than  the  present.  —  Evidences  of 
the  great  ice-cap  all  over  the  State  of  New  York.  - 
About  70,000  years  ago  it  retreated  for  the  last  time, 
and  man  appeared  on  the  stage  of  life.  -  21 

THE   POLAR   GLACIERS.     PART  II. 

The  causes  of  the  prevailing  winds,  especially  the  trade 
winds.  —  Their  effect  on  ocean  currents.  —  These  always 
flow  into,  and  warm  most,  the  hemisphere  that  is  in  its 


vi  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

secular  summer.  —  Particular  description  and  geograph- 
ical effects  of  the  four  seasons  of  one  of  the  most  glacial 
of  the  great  secular  years.  —  Evidences  in  the  earth's 
strata  of  previous  glacial  periods ;  and  the  help  which 
they  give  towards  estimating  the  age  of  geological  epochs 
and  of  the  world.  -  31 

UNIVERSITIES  YS.   SCIENCE. 

An  attempt  to  represent  the  arguments  and  convictions  of 
the  good  Methodist  curators  of  the  Yanderbilt  Univer- 
sity, of  Nashville,  Tenn.,  when  they  removed  Prof. 
Alex.  Winchell  from  his  Lectureship  in  Geology  on 
account  of  scientific  heterodox  opinions.  —  Showing 
the  unfavorable  influence  on  religious  tenets,  and  the 
logical  materialistic  conclusions,  that  must  follow  from 
modern  scientific  teachings,  and  particularly  from  the 
Darwinian  .theories.  -  -  43 

WHAT  THE  CHEMISTRY  OF  THE  ROCKS  TEACHES. 

The  nebular  theory  of  the  origin  of  the  earth  proved  from 
the  chemical  condition  and  composition  of  the  rocks.  — 
The  order  of  position  of  the  gases  and  vapors  of  minerals 
in  the  atmosphere,  according  to  their  specific  gravities. 
—  The  oxidation  of  silicon  arid  formation  of  the  granites 
would  be  the  first  result  of  consolidation.  —  Then  fol- 
lowed the  great  storms  and  down-pourings  of  the  metals 
in  their  order,  the  most  infusible  first.  —  Then  the  for- 
mation of  water,  bringing  down  sulphuric  and  carbonic 
acid  in  solution.  —  The  succession  of  the  strata  in  the 
earth  corresponds  to  what  would  be  the  order  of  com- 
bination and  condensation  in  the  atmospheric  strata.  — 
The  constitution  of  the  other  planets  as  judged  of  by 
chemical  laws.  -  53 

THE   GENESIS   OF   WORLDS. 

Outlines  of  the  "  Nebular  hypothesis."  —  Action  and  trans- 
mutation of  the  forces  engaged  in  the  consolidation  of 
worlds  from  the  gaseous  state.  —  First  effect  of  the 
condensation  of  gases  is  heat.  —  To  a  certain  extent 
this  heat  is  transformed  into  the  motion  of  the  masses, 
that  is  planetary  revolutions ;  the  remainder  is  radiated 


CONTENTS.  vn 

PAGE 

into  space.  —  All  worlds  must  eventually  become  cold 
and  solid.  —  Then,  from  the  arrest  of  motion  by  friction 
in  space,  they  must  fall  into  each  other.  —  Motion  stop- 
ped is  again  transformed  into  heat,  arid  all  matter  is 
again  expanded  into  gases  with  its  original  endowment 
of  heat.  —  Thus  the  never  ending  succession  of  world 
formation  and  world  destruction.  -  69 

ON   THE   STRUCTURE   OF  ATOMS. 

Atoms  in  uniting  to  form  compounds  divide  themselves  into 
various  fractions,  at  least  up  to  twelfths.  —  Instances 
and  a  table  given.  —  The  composite  structure  of  atoms 
inferred  from  each  separate  kind  producing  its  own 
characteristic  bands  in  the  spectrum.  —  Also  inferred 
from  the  remarkable  property  of  "  specific  heat,"  and 
from  other  peculiar  chemical  principles.  —  A  mixture 
of  gases  of  all  weights  is  found  in  each  of  the  planets. 
—  The  existence  of  hydrogen,  the  lightest  of  all  the  ele- 
ments, in  the  inner  planets  and  notably  in  the  sun,  can 
only  be  accounted  for  on  the  supposition  that  it  has  been 
newly  created  in  those  bodies.  79 

EVOLUTION  THE  RESULT  OF  CHEMICAL  FORCES; 

OR,  "  EVIDENCES  OF  DESIGN  IN  EVOLUTION."  -  -  The  quanti- 
ties and  affinities  of  the  elements  that  compose  the 
earth  might  just  as  well,  on  the  doctrine  of  chances, 
have  varied  in  any  number  of  ways  that  would  have 
failed  to  produce  a  habitable  world..  —  The  exceptional 
properties  of  water  alone  prove  adaptation  in  the  for- 
mation of  the  elements.  —  The  power  of  the  atoms  of 
carbon  to  unite  in  hundreds  and  to  hold  together  hun- 
dreds of  other  atoms  in  one  molecule  of  protoplasm  is 
both  the  condition  and  cause  of  organic  life.  — r  W  herein 
the  Darwinian  theory  fails  to  account  for  the  facts  of 
organic  development.  —  It  acts  and  can  act  only  within 
very  narrow  limits.  —  The  great  advances  from  one 
order  to  another  were  always  sudden,  with  no  interme- 
diate links.  —  Examples  from  the  quadruped  orders.  - 
Marsupials  particularly  described.  —  The  lowest  races  of 
mankind  do  not  approach  the  ape  species  in  brain  size 
or  in  any  physical  peculiarity.  —  How  and  to  what  ex- 
tent the  increasing  complexity  of  carbon  compounds 
explains  the  progress  of  evolution.  91 


viii  CONTENTS. 

THE   MICROSCOPIST   IN   BERMUDA. 

PAGE 

The  situation,  description  and  history  of  these  small  islands. 
-  The  formation  is  "^Eolian,"  and  dependent  on  coral 
reefs.  —  It  is  entirely  organic.  —  The  life  history  of  the 
Foraminifera,  the  most  numerous  of  the  shells  in  the 
sand.  —  Life  history  of  the  Echinus,  or  sea-urchin.— 
Wonders  and  beauty  of  its  structure  as  revealed  by  the 
microscope.  —  The  bird's-head  Polyzoa.  —  The  Hydro- 
zoa,  and  their  intermediate  generation,  the  jelly-fishes. 
—  The  great  interest  there  is  in  the  Invertebrate 
kingdom.  -  -  115 

MICROSCOPICAL   COLLECTIONS  IN   FLORIDA. 

Florida  peculiarly  adapted  to  the  development  of  air-plants 
and  of  organs  for  the  absorption  of  aerial  nutrition.  -- 
Glandular  cells,  like  inlaid  pearls,  on  leaves  of  Onosmo- 
dium.  - —  Stellate  scales  on  leaves  of  Croton  plants.  — 
Beauty  and  object  of  the  scales  on  Florida  moss. —  Resin 
dots  on  leaves  of  Calicarpa  and  sweet  myrtle.  —  Insec- 
tivorous plants.  —  Drosera,  or  sun-dew.  —  A  new,  float- 
ing, variety.  —  Utricularia,  or  bladder-wort.  —  Pitcher 
plant,  the  most  wonderful  instance  of  adaptation  to 
special  purposes.  —  Its  development  cannot  be  explained 
under  the  Darwinian  theory.  -  131 


ON  THE  PREPARATION   OF   OBJECTS   FOR 
THE  MICROSCOPE. 

Spiral  tissue  in  leaf  stem  of  castor-oil  plant.  —  Methods  of 

staining  vegetable  tissues  of   all  kinds.  —  Methods  of 

mounting  in  cells,  both  with  fluids  and  as  dry  mounts. 

-  The  author's  views  on  the  various  cements  used  in 

mounting.      -  -  145 

PREPARATION  AND   MOUNTING   OF   DOUBLE 
STAININGS. 

A  paper  read  before  the  American  Microscopical  Association, 
giving  a  full  account  of  the  author's  methods  of  multiple 
staining,  and  of  mounting  the  specimens  both  in  Can- 
ada balsam  and  in  aqueous  fluids.  -  155 


CONTENTS.  ix 

SOME  NEW  FORMS   OF  MOUNTING. 

PAGE 

A  paper  read  before  the  American  Microscopical  Association. 
—  Method  of  making  the  transparent  shellac  cells.— 
Curtain  ring  cells.  —  A  cement  cell  that  will  withstand 
the  action  of  Canada  balsam  or  turpentine.  —  Method 
of  mounting  certain  opaque  objects  in  Canada  balsam, 
for  the  Lieberkiihn.  -  -  159 

THE  MICROSCOPE  AND   ITS   PREPARATIONS. 

Objects  that  are  beautiful  to  natural  vision  are  not  so  under 
the  microscope.  —  The  two  worlds  seem  to  be  entirely 
distinct.  —  The  fineness  of  the  markings  on  Podura 
scales  and  on  diatoms.  —  Woodward's  photograph  of 
lines  so  fine  that  400  would  be  covered  by  the  ordinary 
ruling  mark  on  writing  paper.  —  Remarkable  structure 
and  contrivances  of  the  fly-catching  Pitcher  plant.  — 
Also  of  the  bladders  of  the  Utricularia,  catching  insects 
in  water.  —  The  beautiful  spores  of  a  Mexican  fern.  — 
Peculiar  method  of  reproduction  among  ferns.  -  -  163 

DIVERSITY   OF   RACES. 

Written  for  a  Yale  College  Senior  Prize ;  but  denied  the 
prize,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  the  Faculty,  solely  on 
account  of  its  unorthodox  sentiments.  —  It  is  an  attempt 
to  show  the  impossibility  of  the  descent  of  all  the  races 
of  mankind  from  one  human  pair,  and  within  the  Bib- 
lical chronology.  —  Of  interest  chiefly  as  an  example  of 
the  earliest  writings  on  this  subject,  (the  first  the  writer 
has  any  knowledge  of),  and  as  showing  that  36  years 
ago  subjects  were  tabooed  that  are  now  preached  about 
in  every  pulpit.  -  -  171 

CHILDHOOD   OF   SCIENCE. 

Intellectual  gloom  of  the  dark  ages.  —  The  rise  of  the  arts, 
discoveries,  and  literature,  three  to  four  hundred  years 
ago.  —  Errors  of  the  middle  ages,  astrology  and  alchemy. 

-  Roger  Bacon,  Basil  Valentine,  and  Paracelsus.  —  The 
inductive  method  of    reasoning.  —  Francis   Bacon.  - 
The  discoveries  of  Copernicus.  —  Sketches  of  the  life 
and  work  of  Kepler.  —  Galileo  the  first  true  scientist. 

-  His  contests  with  the  church,  the  schools,  and  every 
form  of  error. 187 


x  CONTENTS. 

THE   HUNS   OF   ATTILA. 

PAGE 

Their  origin  on  the  steppes  of  Tartary  in  central  Asia.  — 
These  Highlands  the  prolific  source  from  which  have 
sprung  all  the  dominant  races.  —  The  migration  of  the 
Huns  into  Europe. —  Their  progress  set  in  westward 
motion  all  the  intervening  tribes  of  barbarians,  causing 
all  the  successive  nomadic  irruptions  into  the  Roman 
territory.  —  Sketches  of  these  irruptions.  —  The  Huns 
under  Attila  were  the  last.  —  Their  meeting  with  the 
Roman  armies  in  the  heart  of  France.  —  The  bloody 
and  eventful  battle  of  Chalons.  —  One  of  the  great 
decisive  battles  of  the  world.  -  -  Final  triumph  of 
Christianity  over  barbarism.  -  207 


ANCIENT  PAINTING  AS   AMONG  THE   LOST 
ARTS.      PREFACE. 

American  travelers  as  a  class  do  not  take  interest  in  the  ruins 
and  relics  of  ancient  structures  and  art  that  abound  in 
Italy.  —  There  is  however  great  value  and  absorbing 
interest  in  old  things  that  are  "good  for  nothing,"  as 
the  following  discourse  will  attempt  to  show.  -  225 


ANCIENT  PAINTING  AS  AMONG  THE  LOST 
ARTS.      LECTURE. 

The  rare  and  uncertain  visits  of  the  genius  of  culture  to 
mankind.  —  What  we  know  of  Grecian  painting  from 
the  classical  writers.  —  Its  processes  are  Lost  Arts.  — 
Sketches  and  noted  productions  of  some  of  the  Greek 
painters.  —  Story  in  regard  to  Benj.  West  as  illustrating 
the  cause  of  the  great  superiority  of  the  Grecian  artists. 
—  Farnese  Bull  and  Laocoon  described.  —  The  abound- 
ing wealth  of  ancient  sculpture.  —  Art  remains  found 
in  Pompeii.  —  The  causes  that  brought  about  the  ex- 
tinction of  all  art  knowledge  and  the  destruction  of  all 
art  remains.  —  The  decay  of  Roman  culture  and  empire, 
along  with  the  gradual  demolition  of  the  great  city  of 
Rome. -  -  '  -  227 


CONTENTS.  xi 

SKETCHES  OF  THE  "OLD  MASTERS"  IN  PAINTING. 

PAGE 

Giving  a  brief  account  of  what  is  most  noteworthy  in  the 
lives  and  character,  the  work  and  master-pieces  of  the 
early  Italian  painters ;  forming  a  kind  of  introduction 
to  the  following  more  extended  description  of  their 
works.  - -  245 


STORIES   OF  NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

Descriptions  and  narratives  explaining  the  most  noted  works 
of  the  "  Old  Masters,"  as  well  as  of  many  of  the  cele- 
brated paintings  of  modern  artists.  —  The  author  has 
endeavored  to  make  them  models  of  concise  story- 
telling, such  as  in  his  judgment  should  characterize 
descriptive  catalogues.  -  -  257 


A  TRIP    TO   MEXICO. 

A  visit  to  "old  Mexico"  in  the  winter  of  1875-6.  —  Yera 
Cruz  railway.  —  9,000  feet  up  the  mountains. —  The 
extensive  fields  of  the  "century  plant"  that  produce 
the  notorious  Mexican  drink  "  pulque  "  (pool-kay).  — 
The  valley  of  the  city  of  Mexico  an  undrained  basin, 
with  the  salt  lake  Tezcuco  in  the  lowest  part.  —  The 
City  of  Mexico.  —  Its  conquest  by  Cortez.  —  The  Diaz- 
Lerdo  revolution,  in  progress  at  the  time  of  this  visit. 

-  Poverty  of  Mexico  and  its  causes.  —  The  fallacy  and 
folly  of  the  modern  disbelievers  in  the  Spanish  accounts 
of  Aztec  civilization  and  the  "Conquest  of  Mexico." 

-  The  beauty  and  variety  of  Mexican  scenery.     -         -  283 


SIGHT-SEEING  IN  NEW  ZEALAND. 

Its  native  animals  and  plants  represent  a  geological  age 
nearly  back  to  the  Carboniferous.  —  The  Maoris  (native 
races)  are  a  quite  recent  imigration.  -  -  How  New 
Zealand  got  its  inappropriate  name.  —  Description  of 
Auckland. -- Visit  to  the  hot  springs  and  lakes.  - 
Accounts  of  Maoris.  --  New  Zealand  "bush."-  -The 
remarkable  Terraces.  —  Lake  Rotomahana.  —  Hot  water 
bathing.  —  The  sheep-killing  parrot.  —  Ravages  of  im- 


xii  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

ported  weeds.  —  The  rabbit  plague.  — The  Albatross.  - 
Its  soaring  with  motionless  wings  explained.  —  The 
Moa  skeletons.  —  Maori  "  carved  houses."-  -  The  sounds 
or  fiords  on  the  southern  coast.  —  The  southern  con- 
stellations.—  Unfavorable  conclusions  in  regard  to  New 
Zealand,  agriculturally  and  financially.  -  297 

THE   SCIENCE   OF   RELIGION. 

A  plea  for  a  broader  liberalism  in  Christian  theology. —  The 
critical  comparison  and  contrast  of  the  Christian  with 
the  older  religions  of  the  world  show  it  to  be  derivative 
and  not  original.  —  Consequently  it  has  no  right  to  ex- 
clusiveness.  —  The  Greek  philosophy  of  Socrates  and 
Plato  taught  the  Trinity  of  Gods,  the  immortality  of 
the  soul  and  the  doctrine  of  future  rewards  and  punish- 
ments. —  The  Yedas  of  the  Brahmaiis  were  written  a 
thousand  years  before  the  Flood.  —  Yet  they  tell  the 
stories  of  Adima  and  Heva,  the  first  parents,  and  of 
Chrishna  the  Redeemer  of  mankind,  almost  word  for 
word  as  they  are  related  in  the  Bible.  —  There  were 
religious  sects  in  Egypt  shortly  before  the  Christian 
era  so  closely  resembling  the  Church  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament that  they  could  not  be  distinguished  from  it.  — 
From  all  this  it  is  argued  that  in  all  ages  and  nations 
the  man  who  has  lived  an  upright  and  God-fearing  life 
according  to  the  light  that  has  been  given  him,  is  en- 
titled to  all  the  rewards  that  are  promised  to  the  faith- 
ful.   -321 


SKETCHES   OF   SEA-LIFE. 

The  story  of  the  author's  first  voyage  "  before  the  mast,"  in 
the  year  1847.  —  It  was  in  the  new  packet  ship,  St. 
Denis,  from  New  York  to  Havre  in  France. —  The  trip 
forth  and  back  occupied  about  four  months. —  It  occur- 
red in  the  writer's  sophomore  year  at  Yale  College ;  but 
all  examinations  were  afterwards  passed  and  he  grad- 
uated with  his  Class  in  '49.  -  -  -  335 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


DESCRIPTION   OF   THE   GELATINE   PROCESS   OF 
PICTURE   MAKING. 

As  the  art  of  reproducing  photographs  by  the  gelatine  process 
is  quite  recent  and  not  yet  very  generally  understood,  a 
few  words  in  explanation  of  it  may  not  be  out  of  place 
as  an  introduction  to  the  description  of  the  plates  in 
this  book,  which  have  been  made  wholly  by  this  process. 

All  photo-mechanical  w^ork  depends  on  two  peculiar  proper- 
ties of  gelatine.  1st :  Warm  water  readily  dissolves  gela- 
tine, while  cold  water  only  soaks  or  is  absorbed  by  it 
without  dissolving  any  portion  of  it.  2nd  :  A  mixture 
of  a  solution  of  gelatine  with  bichromate  of  potassa 
remains  a  simple  mechanical  mixture  as  long  as  it  is 
kept  in  the  dark ;  but  when  exposed  to  white  light  it 
becomes  a  chemical  compound,  hard  and  impervious  to 
water. 

In  the  first  place  then,  a  thin  film  of  this  mixture  of  gela- 
tine and  bichromate  is  spread  over  a  square  of  plate 
glass  in  the  photographer's  dark  room.  A  photographic 
negative  is  then  placed  in  close  contact  with  this  film, 
and  it  is  exposed  to  sun  light.  The  film  becomes  hard 
and  insoluble  under  the  light  parts  of  the  negative, 
partially  so  under  the  half  tints,  and  remains  soft  and 
unchanged  under  the  dark  shades.  After  sufficient  ex- 
posure the  plate  is  taken  to  the  dark  room  and  all  the 
uncombined  bichromate  washed  out  by  cold  water.  It 
is  then  in  condition  to  print  from,  and  may  be  taken 
directly  to  the  printing  press. 

For  each,  copy  that  is  taken  from  it  the  plate  is  sponged 
with  cold  water  and  lightly  wiped,  leaving  the  hard 
parts  dry,  the  semi-hardened  parts  more  or  less  damp, 
and  the  soft  parts  quite  wet.  In  this  condition  the 
ordinary  "  greasy  "  ink  of  the  lithographers  will  adhere 
only  to  the  dry  parts  of  it  and  be  repelled  from  the  wet. 
Rollers  coated  with  this  thick  ink,  first  of  the  quality 
called  "  coarse,"  then  of  "  fine,"  are  successively  passed 


xiv  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

over  the  plate  until  the  picture  is  brought  out  clearly  in 
all  its  dark  and  light  shadings.  A  specially  prepared 
paper  is  now  applied  to  the  inked  plate,  passed  through 
the  press,  and  then  carefully  raised  from  the  film,  a 
perfectly  printed  picture.  It  is  afterwards  polished,  if 
desired,  as  in  the  samples  in  this  book,  with  talc  and 
cotton  batting. 

Any  color  may  be  used  in  the  printing.  From  three  to 
five  hundred  copies  can  be  taken  from  one  film,  and 
after  that  another  film  can  be  easily  prepared  from  the 
same  negative.  An  original  and  perfect  negative  will 
of  course  make  the  finest  picture.  The  excellent  repro- 
ductions here  presented  were  made  however,  in  all  but 
two  instances,  the  portrait  and  the  diatom  plate,  from 
copies  of  the  originals,  and  the  most  of  them  from  neg- 
atives taken  of  the  paper  photographs  brought  from 
New  Zealand.  They  are  the  productions  of  The  Lewis 
Company,  15  Cornhill,  Boston. 

PLATE  I. —  FKOXTISPIECE. 
PORTRAIT   OF   THE   AUTHOR. 


PLATE  II. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  8. 
NEW  ZEALAND   "BUSH"   SCENERY. 

It  is  supposed  that  the  New  Zealand  forest,  or  "  bush  "  as  it 
is  there  called,  with  its  rank  undergrowth  of  ferns  and 
reed  grasses,  and  its  overhanging  masses  of  parasitic 
growths,  orchids,  creepers,  and  climbing  ferns,  represents 
both  in  species  and  in  luxuriance  the  vegetation  which 
formed  the  coal  beds.  Pages  298  and  303 

PLATE  III. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  32. 
MITRE  PEAK,  MILFORD  SOUND,  NEW  ZEALAND. 

This  sound  is  one  of  many  remarkable  inlets  from  the 
sea  on  the  south-west  coast  of  New  Zealand,  like  the 
fiords  of  Norway.  This  one  is  nine  miles  in  length 
and  is  walled  in  by  snow-capped  peaks  which  rise  almost 
straight  up  from  the  water  to  heights  of  from  five  to 
seven  thousand  feet.  On  the  left  of  the  view  is  Mitre 
Peak,  5,600  feet  high,  so  called  from  its  resemblance  in 
certain  views  to  the  double-peaked  Cardinal's  mitre. 


ILLUSTRATIONS.  xv 

On  the  right  is  Pembroke  Peak,  7,000  feet  high.  Be- 
tween the  two  is  the  narrow  entrance  to  the  sound,  in 
one  place  only  500  yards  wide.  The  view  is  taken  from 
Fresh  Water  Basin  on  the  inlet  river  at  the  head  of 
the  sound.  Page  317 

PLATE  IV. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  56. 
TREE  FERNS  IN  FERN  TREE  GULLY,  HOB  ART  TOWN. 

Although  this  view  of  the  indescribable  luxuriance  and 
beauty  of  the  fern  tree  growths  is  in  Tasmania  (Van 
Dieman's  Land),  still  it  faithfully  represents  the  borders 
and  openings  of  almost  every  forest,  or  "  bush,"  in  New 
Zealand.  These  tree  ferns,  some  of  which  are  40  feet 
high  with  a  spread  at  the  top  of  20  feet,  will  not  flour- 
ish except  under  the  protection  and  partial  shade  of 
the  taller  forest  trees.  '  Page  303 

PLATE  V. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  80. 
MOURNING  THE   DEAD   IN   NEW   ZEALAND. 

The  peculiarly  heathen  practice  of  wailing  for  the  dead  still 
persists  among  all  the  Maori  (Moury)  tribes-  of  New 
Zealand.  The  dead  body  is  laid  out  in  the  porch  of 
the  house,  and  the  mourners  come  and  bewail  in  a  sad 
and  moaning  tone  by  the  hour.  I  have  heard  a  belated 
mourner  going  through  his  lugubrious  wail  in  the  door 
yard  of  a  deceased  two  weeks  after  the  burial.  Page  305 

PLATE  VI. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  96. 

A   SETTLEMENT   OF   CRAY-FISHERS   NEAR   HOT 
SPRINGS  IN   NEW   ZEALAND. 

This  is  the  place  where  all  excursionists  to  the  celebrated 
Terraces  of  New  Zealand  are  expected  to  stop  and  buy 
a  bag  of  cray-fish,  to  be  cooked  for  lunch  in  the  hot 
springs  on  Lake  Rotomahana.  Page  310 

PLATE  VII. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  116. 
ARRANGED  GROUP  OF  DIATOMS  AND  SPICULES. 

(MAGNIFIED  SIXTY-FIVE  DIAMETERS.) 

The  original  specimen  is  all  comprised  in  one-thirteenth  of 
an  inch,  about  the  size  of  the  head  of  a  pin,  and  con- 
tains 202  shells  and  spicules.  The  center  and  outside 


xvi  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

diatoms  are  Coscinodiscus  radiatus.  The  first  ring 
cluster  is  wheel  plates  found  in  the  skin  of  the  worm 
Chirodota.  The  second  and  fourth  circles  are  the 
diatoms  Actinocyclus  Ralfsii.  The  third  circle  is  the 
diatom  Arachnoidiscus  ETirenbergii.  The  outside 
cluster  is  composed  of  the  anchors  and  perforated  anchor 
plates  found  in  the  sldn  of  the  worm  Synapta,  as  also 
of  the  long  diatoms  Pinnularia  virides.  The  nega- 
tives for  this  and  the  following  prints  of  micro-photo- 
graphs were  taken  for  me  by  W.  H.  Walmsley,  of  1016 
Chestnut  Street,  Philadelphia.  Pages  164  and  125 

PLATE  VIII. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  128. 
BIRDS   HEAD   POLYZO A  —  AVICULARIA. 

(MAGNIFIED  ABOUT  THIRTY  DIAMETERS.) 

One  of  these  illustrations  is  directly  from  nature,  and  the 
other  is  from  a  drawing  of  a  stem  of  the  zoophyte, 
showing  the  animals  with  tentacles  extended,  and  the 
muscles  which  actuate  the  birds  head  attachments. 
These  miniature  heads,  of  no  use  or  purpose  in  the 
colonial  economy,  so  far  as  known,  keep  up  a  continual 
biting  and  snapping  as  long  as  there  is  life  in  the  animal 
which  they  seem  to  guard.  Page  126 

PLATE  IX. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  136. 
SPIRAL  TISSUE  IN  LEAF  STEM  OF  CASTOR  OIL  PLANT. 

1st.  Transverse  section,  magnified  12  diameters,  showing  the 
ends  of  the  spirals  in  what  are  called  the  fibro-vascular 
bundles. 

2nd.  Longitudinal  section,  magnified  70  diameters,  showing 
the  spiral  vessels  as  they  lie  in  one  of  those  bundles. 

These  little  tubes,  made,  in  the  case  of  this  plant,  of  closely 
coiled  fibers,  are  the  passage-ways  through  which  the 
sap  circulates  to  the  extremity  of  the  leaves  and  back 
again.  In  the  leaf -stem  they  are  laid  away  in  small 
clusters  between  the  wood  cells  and  the  pith  cells. 
There  are  over  400  of  these  spiral  vessels  in  the  stem 
from  which  this  specimen  is  taken.  They  are  not  larger 
than  human  hairs,  and  yet  they  are  wound  with  a  thread 
inconceivably  smaller,  and  are  as  perfect  as  coils  of  wire 
around  a  form.  Pages  135  and  145 


ILLUSTRATIONS.  xvii 

PLATE  X. — OPPOSITE  PAGE  152. 
THE  ECHINUS  AND  ITS  LARVA  THE  PLUTEUS. 

1st.  The  Pluteus  or  nurse  form  of  the  Echinoids,  magnified 
20  diameters. 

2nd.  The  Echinus,  the  spiny  sea-egg  or  sea-urchin,  reduced 
to  \  natural  size. 

The  Echinus  which  is  here  represented  is  found  in  holes  that 
it  has  drilled  near  low  tide  in  the  surf-beaten  rocks  of 
the  Bermuda  coast.  From  its  eggs  is  produced  the 
Pluteus,  an  intermediate  generation,  almost  microscopic 
in  size,  but  an  active  swimmer  by  means  of  its  numer- 
ous cilia-hairs.  It  is  an  entirely  different  animal  from 
its  parent,  not  having  one  point  of  structure  in  com- 
mon with  it.  When  this  creature  attains  its  minute 
growth  a  tiny  saucer-shaped  disk  appears  on  one  side  of 
the  stomach  of  the  Pluteus,  gradually  growing  at  the 
edges  into  a  globular  form  until  it  has  enclosed  the  vital 
parts  of  its  old  nurse.  It  then  forms  a  new  mouth  at 
the  point  last  enclosed,  discards  all  the  external  parts  of 
the  Pluteus,  and  sinks  to  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  to 
begin  the  new  life  of  the  spiny  Echinus.  Page  124 

PLATE  XL — OPPOSITE  PAGE  168. 
TRANSVERSE  SECTIONS  OF  SPINES  OF  ECHINUS. 

Magnified  about  30  diameters,  making  the  largest  section 
one-twelfth  of  an  inch  across.  There  is  an  infinite  var- 
iety in  the  beauty,  the  structure,  and  the  exquisite 
coloring  of  these  thin  sections.  Pages  122-3 

By  request  is  here  published  the  author's  method  of  cutting 
and  grinding  these  sections  in  quantity:  —  Imbed  the 
spines  in  glue,  making  a  stick  of  them.  When  nearly 
solid  with  glue  and  dry,  cut  into  thin  cross  sections  with 
a  dentist's  saw.  Dissolve  out  the  glue  in  hot  water. 
Dry  the  sections  and  imbed  them  in  Canada  balsam  on 
two  pieces  of  glass.  When  hardened  by  heat,  grind  one 
against  the  other  with  pumice  and  water  until  level  and 
smooth.  Place  another  piece  of  glass  in  a  saucer  and 
cover  with  turpentine.  Put  one  of  the  ground  pieces 
on  this  with  sections  down.  After  one  day  the  sections 
wrill  all  lie  turned  over  on  the  lower  glass.  Carefully 
raise  and  imbed  them  as  they  lie  in  Canada  balsam. 


xvin  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Treat  the  other  ground  glass  in  the  same  way,  and  when 
hard  grind  the  two  new  ones  together  with  pumice  and 
water  until  the  sections  are  as  thin  as  possible.  Then 
carefully  dissolve  them  off  witli  turpentine,  and  select 
and  mount  in  balsam.  Some  will  show  best  as  opaque 
objects.  Page  161 


PLATE  XII. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  184. 
PORTRAITS   OF   SOUTH   SEA  ISLANDERS. 

There  is  nothing  that  pleases  a  native  more  than  to  make  a 
display  of  his  accoutrements  and  insignia  of  rank.  The 
tattoo  marks  on  the  face,  arms  and  breast  of  the  New 
Zealanders  indicate  the  tribe  and  rank  of  each  person. 
A  high  chief  is  pretty  well  covered  with  them  all  over 
the  upper  part  of  his  body.  A  married  woman  is 
tatooed  on  her  chin  as  well  as  on  breast  and  arms. 
These  scarifying  marks  are  put  on  in  India  ink,  under 
some  pointed  instrument  (formerly  flint  or  bone),  beaten 
into  the  skin  by  a  light  mallet.  It  is  said  that  110  per- 
son can  bear  the  torture  of  it  more  than  half  an  hour 
in  a  day.  Some  of  these  old  cannibals  must  have  had 
quite  a  foretaste  of  torment  in  this  life.  Page  298 


PLATE  XIII. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  208. 
WHITE  TERRACES  AND  GEYSER,  NEW  ZEALAND. 

In  the  central  part  of  the  North  Island  of  New  Zealand, 
about  100  miles  inland  by  the  road,  is  the  remarkable 
geyser  district  which  contains  the  hot  lake  Rotomahana, 
on  opposite  borders  of  which  are  the  far-famed 
White  and  Pink  Terraces.  In  each  case,  at  a  height  of 
nearly  100  feet  above  the  lake,  there  is  an  enormous 
fountain  of  boiling  and  spouting  waters  surcharged 
with  silica.  Inasmuch  as  only  hot  water  will  hold  any 
of  this  mineral  in  solution,  it  must  necessarily  be  depos- 
ited as  the  water  cools.  This  is  the  cause  of  the  forma- 
tion of  these  splendid  and  spacious  steps  and  basins  of 
silicious  sinter.  A  slight  impregnation  of  iron  in  the 
waters  of  the  Pink  Terraces  gives  to  them  their  beauti- 
fully variegated  pinkish  tinge.  Pages  308  to  312 


ILLUSTRATIONS.  xix 

PLATE  XIV. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  224. 
WHITE   TERRACES   WITH  FOUNTAIN  NOT  FLOWING. 

The  natives  say  that  when  the  wind  blows  strong  in  a  certain 
direction,  the  waters  recede  from  the  fountain  of  the 
White  Terraces,  and  they  can  look  down  into  it  as  into 
a  crater.  This  statement  would  be  almost  incredible 
without  the  evidence  of  this  photograph.  Page  309 

PLATE  XV. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  240. 

VIEW   AT   THE   HEAD   OF   LAKE   WAKATIPU, 
NEW  ZEALAND. 

Lake  Wakatipu  (Wah-kah-teep\  60  miles  long,  1,000  feet 
above  the  sea,  and  said  to  be  1,400  feet  deep,  lying  in 
the  heart  of  the  Southern  Alps  at  the  farthest  end  of 
New  Zealand,  is  the  wildest  and  grandest  scenery  lake 
perhaps  in  the  world.  From  the  end  where  the  Inver- 
cargill  railway  reaches  it,  to  the  head  where  a  single 
Irish  family  on  one  side  and  a  single  Scotch  family  on 
the  other  make  the  rival  "  towns "  of  Kinlock  and 
Glenarchy,  increasingly  high  and  rugged  snow  covered 
peaks  and  ridges  rise  abruptly  from  the  shores  to  heights 
of  six  to  nine  thousand  feet.  The  terraces  which  are 
seen  in  this  view,  as  sharply  cut  as  if  made  by  human 
hands,  and  which  are  over  400  feet  high,  are  found  at 
the  same  height  and  with  the  same  shelves  on  all  sides 
of  the  lake,  showing  the  different  elevations  at  which 
the  water  has  stood  in  former  times.  Page  316 


PLATE  XVI. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  256. 

EUCALYPTUS  FOREST  OF  AUSTRALIA,  WITH 
TREE   FERNS. 

In  these  forests  which  cover  so  large  a  part  of  Australia, 
the  enormous  white  trunks  of  the  different. "gum  trees" 
(I  have  jneasured  them  over  17  feet  in  diameter)  tower 
up  200  or  300  feet  without  branches,  while  underneath 
is  an  impenetrable  growth  of  ferns  and  bushes.  In  the 
edges  and  more  open  spaces  flourish  the  tall  tree  ferns, 
30  to  40  feet  high.  Page  297 


xx  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PLATE  XVII. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  280. 

HOUSE  AND  GROUP  OF  MAORIS,  NATIVE  NEW 

ZEALANDERS. 

Tliis  is  the  scarcely  varying  model  of  all  the  Maori  houses, 
a  porch  in  front  and  one  room  back,  all  under  a  grass 
thatched  roof,  and  with  more  or  less  carvings  on  the 
posts  and  cornices,  according  to  the  skill  or  rank  of  the 
occupant.  The  Maoris  have  found  it  easier  to  dress 
themselves  in  the  cheap  or  cast-off  clothes  of  the  English 
than  to  make  them  from  their  native  "  flax  plant "  as 
they  formerly  did.  Page  315 

PLATE  XVIII. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  296. 

PINK  TERRACES  AND  BOILING  FOUNTAIN,  NEW 
ZEALAND. 

Described  under  White  Terraces — PLATE  XIII.  Page  311 

PLATE  XIX. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  312. 

HOT  BATH  BASINS  IN  PINK  TERRACES,  NEW 

ZEALAND. 

The  hot  water  in  these  basins  is  about  breast  deep,  and  one 
climbs  up  from  one  to  another  as  he  requires  or  can 
endure  the  hotter  waters.  Page  311 

PLATE  XX. —  OPPOSITE  PAGE  336. 
SAILOR  BOY  "CHARLIE." 

A  copy  from  an  old  Daguerreotype,  and  the  earliest  likeness 
taken  of  the  one  whose  latest  portrait  heads  this  vol- 
ume. Page  338 


BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION; 

Or,  The  World  Below  the  Microscope.* 


Midway  between  two  infinities  lies  the  world  that  is  revealed 
to  our  senses.  A  wide  and  wonderful  world  it  seems  to  us,  for 
within  its  range  are  all  the  forms  and  phenomena  which  are  at 
the  foundation  of  our  knowledge,  the  arts  and  the  sciences. 
Yet  marvelous  and  almost  infinite  as  are  the  scenes  and  objects 
unfolded  to  our  sight,  they  form  but  an  infinitesimal  part  of  the 
boundless  range  of  nature  both  beneath  and  beyond  the  limits  of 
our  perceptions. 

The  sharpest  eyes,  under  .the  most  favorable  circumstances  for 
observation,  can  see  only  about  five  thousand  stars  in  all  the 
sweep  of  the  heavens.  With  the  highest  powers  of  the  telescope 
it  is  estimated  that  twenty  million  stars  are  visible.  Yet  all 
these  are  only  the  brightest  or  the  nearest  of  the  suns  which 
compose  the  great  cluster  of  the  Galaxy  or  Milky-way,  to  which 
system  our  sun  belongs.  In  many  parts  of  the  Miljky-way  even 
the  giant  reflector  of  Lord  Rosse  discloses,  beyond  the  stars  which 
it  resolves,  only  the  same  milky  whiteness  which  we  see  every 
clear  night  in  that  marvelous  girdle  of  the  heavens.  We  have 
not  yet  seen  even  all  the  outlying  lights  of  our  own  City  of  the 
skies.  Yet  this  immense  aggregation  of  worlds  composing  the 
Milky-way,  numbering,  with  the  dark  planets  which  are  doubt- 
less circling  about  their  suns,  and  the  many  un lighted  orbs  in 
their  midst,  probably  thousands  of  millions,  is  only  one  of 
thousands  of  such  star  clusters  that  are  within  the  range  of 

*A  lecture  written  In  1884,  and  delivered  before  the  Rochester  Academy   of   Sciences   and 
on  A'arious  other  occasions. 


6  BEYOND   THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 

telescopic  observation.  Over  five  thousand  nebulae  have  already 
been  counted  in  the  heavens ;  and  every  increase  in  telescopic 
power  not  only  resolves  more  of  the  previously  known  nebulae 
into  faint  clusters  of  stars,  but  reveals  others  still  deeper  set  in 
the  infinitudes  of  space.  Of  the  nebulous  bodies  which  the 
Spectroscope  has  been  able  to  examine,  about  two-thirds  are 
proved  to  be  clusters  of  stars,  and  the  other  one-third  to  be  gas- 
eous matter,  nitrogen,  hydrogen,  and  an  unknown  gas,  imperfect 
or  new  forming  worlds.  Over  three  thousand  star  systems  then, 
probably  in  every  way  similar  to  the  one  which  lights  our  night 
skies,  have  already  been  located  in  the  outlying  regions  of  space. 
And  still  beyond  are  doubtless  other  systems  teeming  with  their 
myriads  of  self-lighted  suns.  There  is  no  boundary  to  the  hea- 
vens. The  mind  of  man  cannot  conceive  of  a  limit  to  space. 
For  if  there  is  one,  what  limits  it  —  what  is  there  beyond  ? 

The  nearest  fixed  star  to  us  is  still  twenty  million  million  miles 
away.  Light,  which  travels  at  the  perfectly  inconceivable  veloc- 
ity of  182,000  miles  in  a  second  of  time,  takes  three  and  a  half 
years  to  come  to  us  from  this  star,  Alpha  Centauri.  Sirius,  the 
brightest  star  in  the  heavens,  is  separated  from  us  by  the  light 
distance  of  seventeen  years — or  100 -million  million  miles.  Sir. 
Win.  Herschel  estimated  that  some  of  the  light  of  the  Milky- 
way  is  already  ten  thousand  years  old  when  it  reaches  us.  Some 
of  the  infinite  multitude  of  stars  which  appear  as  the  hazy  cloud- 
belt  of  the  Galaxy,  emitted  the  rays  which  strike  our  eyes 
to-night  over  ten  thousand  years  ago. 

But  this  is  all  within  our  own  circumscribed  world  of  worlds. 
There  are  telescopic  star  clusters  so  far  banished  in  space  that 
they  are  perhaps  to-day  receiving  the  last  glimmer  of  the  molten 
fire  beds  that  once  covered  our  earth.  Were  the  entire  stellar 
universe  except  our  sun  and  planets  swept  out  of  existence  at 
this  hour,  we  would  not  know  it  —  we  would  not  even  suspect 
it  —  for  ages  to  come. 

Such  is  the  infinity  of  magnitudes.  But  I  will  have  occasion 
to-night  to  speak  to  you  of  more  startling  infinitudes  below  our 
sight  than  there  are  above  it.  The  world  of  the  infinitely  small 
is  of  vaster  range  and  set  off  with  far  more  inconceivable  num- 


BEYOND   THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 


bers  than  the  universe  of  the  heavens.  We  will  follow  it  grad- 
ually down  until  it  vanishes  from  all  possibility  of  conception. 

The  limit  of  natural  vision  I  suppose  is  not  far  from  the  one- 
hundredth  of  an  inch.  The  volvox,  which  can  be  seen  by  the 
naked  eye  as  a  little  green  speck  in  pond  water,  is  about  the  one- 
fiftieth  of  an  inch  in  diameter.  The  largest  diatoms,  which  are 
seen  as  the  merest  particles  of  fine  dust,  seldom  reach  the  size 
of  one-hundredth  of  an  inch.  The  finest  point  of  the  sharpest 
needle  is  estimated  at  the  one-thousandth  of  an  inch  across,  and 
as  you  know  can  no  more  be  seen  than  the  edge  of  a  razor.  You 
can  of  course  tell  where  it  is,  for  it  stops  the  passage  of  light ; 
but  you  can  see  no  dimensions  about  it  whatever. 

With  the  microscope  the  limit  of  .resolving  power  is  somewhere 
near  the  hundred-thousandth  of  an  inch.  The  test  rulings,  known 
as  Robert's  bands,  are  lines  made  by  the  point  of  a  diamond  on 
glass  guided  by  the  finest  screws  and  machinery.  The  nineteenth 
band  is  ruled  to  the  known  fineness  of  120,000  to  the  inch  ;  and 
notwithstanding  some  claims  to  the  contrary,  I  think  it  exceed- 
ingly doubtful  if  these  lines  have  ever  been  clearly  separated  by 
the  highest  powers  of  the  microscope. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  and  complete  illustrations  of  the 
use  of  the  highest  powers  of  the  microscope  that  I  have  ever 
read,  is  in  a  monograph  on  one  of  the  infusoria,  by  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Dallinger,  a  distinguished  English  microscopist.  He  has  followed 
this  animalcule,  the  greatest  length  of  which  is  only  the  one  ten- 
thousandth  of  an  inch,  through  all  the  phases  of  its  life  history, 
comprised  within  ten  to  twelve  hours.  A  full  grown  individual 
divides  itself  lengthwise  into  two  perfect  beings  in  about  five 
minutes.  In  another  five  minutes,  each  of  these  go  through  the 
same  operation  again,  and  so  on  for  hours.  After  from  three  to 
seven  hours  of  this  kind  of  multiplication,  the  older  ones  die  off, 
while  some  of  the  younger  and  more  vigorous  attach  them- 
selves to  each  other  in  pairs.  One  entirely  absorbs  the  body 
of  the  other  into  its  own,  and  settles  down  to  the  quiet  cysted 
state,  as  it  is  called.  Then  after  a  certain  time  there  commence 
to  ooze  out  of  this  body  perfect  little  clouds  of  the  minutest 
spores,  until  nothing  is  left  of  the  parent  organism  but  the 


8  BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 

shriveled  skin.  These  spores,  at  first  too  small  to  be  resolved  by 
the  highest  powers  that  our  microscopist  could  bring  to  bear  upon 
them,  soon  however  grew  to  be  visible  as  distinct  points,  then  to 
push  out  their  little  threads  of  locomotion,  and  at  length  to 
become  the  full  grown  monads,  ready  to  commence  the  other 
kind  of  generation,  that  of  self-division.  You  can  any  of  you 
easily  repeat  at  least  some  part  of  this  experiment,  by  putting  a 
bit  of  fresh  meat  into  a  tumbler  of  water  and  letting  it  stand  for 
a  few  days.  You  will  then  have  a  crop  of  infusoria  that  literally 
"  no  man  can  number."  They  would  not  probably  be  the  identical 
species  experimented  upon  by  Dallinger,  but  one  no  larger  and 
having  an  entirely  similar  life  history  and  modes  of  generation. 

I  have  estimated  in  regard  to  Dallinger's  monads  that  a  hun- 
dred million  of  them,  great  and  small,  might  be  contained  in  a 
drop  of  water,  and  yet  be  no  more  crowded  than  I  have  seen 
bacteria  in  infusions.  Theoretically  the  natural  increase  of  one 
of  these  germs  dropped  into  an  infusion,  and  within  twenty-four 
hours,  would  be  numbered  as  the  figure  one  followed  by  eighteen 
ciphers.  Now  as  this  would  be  as  many  as  a  good  sized  pond 
would  hold,  we  must  suppose  that  the  cruel  principle  of  the 
survival  of  the  fittest  comes  into  that  community  long  before  it 
is  twenty-four  hours  old. 

But  we  must  hasten  our  steps.  We  have  not  passed  below  the 
microscope  as  yet,  and  we  have  a  long  journey  downward  still 
to  make.  I  will  first  endeavor  to  give  you  some  idea  of  Molecu- 
lar Physics — of  the  conditions  and  sizes  of  the  ultimate  particles 
which  compose  the  matter  about  us.  I  do  not  however  dare  to 
present  to  you  the  array  of  figures  which  are  necessary  to  show 
the  relations  and  dimensions  of  the  molecules,  without  giving  at 
least  an  indication  of  the  methods  by  which  they  have  been 
found  out.  You  would  not  begin  to  believe  me  if  I  did  not  have 
some  show  of  proof  to  offer.  So  at  a  risk  of  appearing  a 
little  abstruse,  and  perhaps  of  not  being  fully  understood  for  a 
few  moments,  I  will  attempt  to  tell  you  how  the  scientists  have 
been,  able  to  come  at  the  ultimate  molecules  of  matter,  so  totally 
below  the  reach  of  manipulation,  or  the  highest  powers  of  the 
microscope. 


BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION.  9 

Sir  William  Thomson  has  made  some  very  ingenious  approxi- 
mations to  the  actual  size  of  molecules  from  such  entirely  inde- 
pendent data  as  the  following  :  First — In  the  dispersion  of  light 
in  the  spectrum — how  small  must  be  the  original  particles  in  the 
glass  or  the  crystal  of  the  prism,  to  retard  light  waves  of  60,000 
to  the  inch,  which  are  the  blue,  and  not  much  to  retard  those  of 
40.000  to  the  inch  which  are  the  red ;  for  this  is  the  true  sig- 
nification of  the  dispersion  of  the  colors  in  the  solar  spectrum. 
Second — How  many  molecules  thick  must  be  the  film  of  a  soap 
bubble  to  resist  the  force  and  tension  necessary  to  draw  it  out  to 
an  extreme  thinness.  And :  Third — Knowing  how  much  elec- 
tricity or  heat  is  developed  by  the  application  of  thin  plates  of 
different  metals  as  copper  and  zinc,  how  thin  would  they  have  to 
be  to  develop  the  same  amount  of  heat  which  the  same  quantity 
of  these  metals  produces  when  they  are  alloyed  to  form  brass ; 
for  then  they  are  applied  atom  to  atom.  In  each  of  these  cases 
his  estimates  of  the  probable  size  of  molecules  came  to  nearly 
the  same  uniform  result,  and  furthermore,  to  the  same  result 
which  is  brought  out  by  a  far  more  accurate  and  reliable  culcula- 
tion,  which  I  will  more  particularly  describe. 

It  is  now  a  well  established  principle  that  the  molecules  of  any 
gas,  as  hydrogen,  oxygen  or  the  air  we  breathe,  are  in  constant 
and  rapid  motion — one  striking  against  another  and  bounding  off 
to  hit  a  third,  and  so  on  continually,  precisely  as  billiard  balls 
would  act  under  the  same  impulse  and  without  friction.  This  is 
the  mode  of  motion  known  as  heat;  and  the  hotter  the  gases 
the  swifter  fly  the  particles. 

The  hydrogen  that  fills  a  balloon  resists  an  outside  pressure  of 
fifteen  pounds  to  the  square  inch  ;  and  it  does  it  by  this  incessant 
bombardment  of  the  atoms  of  the  gas  against  the  inside  of  the 
containing  bag.  Now  the  weight  of  a  given  volume  of  hydrogen 
being  well  known,  it  is  only  a  matter  of  calculation  to  estimate 
with  what  velocity  its  parts  must  be  hurled  against  the  sides  of 
any  containing  receptacle  to  resist  such  an  outside  pressure.  It 
is  found  that  its  particles  must  fly  about  in  every  direction  with 
the  average  velocity  of  6,055  feet  in  a  second,  about  70  miles  a 
minute.  The  particles  of  the  air,  being  seven  and  eight  times 


10  BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 

heavier  than  hydrogen,  move  with  only  about  half  that  velocity. 
This  is  one  element  of  the  problem. 

Again,  if  different  gases  are  placed  in  communication  with 
each  other,  they  instantly  commence  mixing  together.  ~No  mat- 
ter how  quiet  they  may  be,  or  how  different  in  weight  within 
certain  limits,  after  a  certain  time  they  are  found  to  be  thoroughly 
commingled.  This  is  accomplished  by  the  incessant  knocking  of 
particles  against  particles  until  they  are  finally  scattered  equally 
in  every  direction.  Now  it  is  by  careful  and  repeated  experiments 
on  the  rate  of  diffusion  of  the  different  gases  with  each  other 
that  physicists  have  calculated  how  many  times  in  a  second  these 
particles  must  be  hitting  against  each  other  to  produce  the  observed 
results.  It  is  found  that  the  number  of  collisions  which  one  atom 
of  hydrogen  must  make  in  a  second  is  on  the  average  17,700 
millions.  Thus  we  have  the  distance  an  atom  travels  in  a  second, 
and  the  number  of  hits  it  makes.  From  these  figures  we  can  very 
easily  tell  the  average  distance  the  atom  travels  between  each  two 
successive  collisions,  called  the  mean  free  path,  and  which  must  be 
about  the  actual  distance  apart  of  these  atoms.  You  see  we  are 
beginning  to  get  a  little  hold  on  these  intangible  and  inscrutable 
things. 

From  the  general  principles  of  molecular  mechanics  there  has 
been  deduced  the  following  simple  proportion :  As  a  given 
volume  of  any  gas  is  to  the  amount  of  solid  matter  in  it,  so  is 
the  average  mean  path  of  any  one  of  its  molecules  to  one-eighth 
of  the  actual  diameter  of  that  molecule.  Now  a  cubic  foot  of 
steam,  which  is  water  gas,  when  condensed  makes  almost  exactly 
a  cubic  inch  of  water,  which  may  be  taken  as  very  nearly  the 
solid  matter  in  that  amount  of  steam.  Therefore,  the  cubic 
inches  in  a  cubic  foot  (1728)  is  to  one,  as  the  mean  free  path 
(about  one-millionth  of  an  inch),  is  to  one-eighth  of  the  diameter 
of  a  molecule  of  water  vapor.  The  working  out  of  this  sum 
gives  the  size  of  the  ultimate  particle  of  any  gas  as  about  the 
250  millionth  of  an  inch.  Here  we  have  the  problem  solved ; 
not  perhaps  with  a  perfectly  accurate  result,  but  certainly  some- 
thing near  it.  We  have  got  at  the  approximate  dimensions  of 
the  last  unit  of  matter — and  it  is  an  exceedingly  small  thing — 


BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION.  11 

perfectly  inconceivable.  The  number  of  molecules  in  a  cubic 
inch  of  any  gas  at  ordinary  temperature  and  pressure  is  the 
figure  3  followed  by  20  ciphers.  A  drop  of  water  contains  about 
the  same  number — three  hundred  million  million  million.  If 
that  little  drop  of  water  were  magnified  to  a  globe  as  large  as 
the  whole  earth,  and  its  molecules  were  enlarged  in  the  same 
proportion,  they  would  still  be  no  larger  than  apples.  Now  you 
may  think  of  a  pile  of  apples  as  large  as  a  meeting-house,  or  a 
hill,  or  possibly  a  mountain,  but  it  is  beyond  all  possibility  to 
realize  the  number  that  would  be  contained  in  a  mass  as  large  as 
the  world  we  live  on.  If  Mount  "Washington  in  the  White 
Mountains  were  all  sand,  there  would  not  be  as  many  grains  in  it 
as  there  are  molecules  in  a  drop  of  water. 

The  cheese-mite  is  a  perfect  little  spider,  with  all  the  parts  and 
complicate  organs  of  his  order.  This  little  insect,  which  you  can 
scarcely  see  by  the  naked  eye,  disposes  of  a  number  of  structural 
units  represented  by  the  figure  4  followed  by  18  ciphers — enough, 
if  they  were  the  smallest  beads  you  ever  saw,  and  strung  on  a 
thread  that  was  long  enough,  to  reach  to  the  bright  star  Sirius. 
If  the  body  of  an  elephant  were  composed  of  only  the  same 
number  of  particles  enlarged  that  go  to  make  up  the  smallest 
living  insect,  the  grained  structure  of  the  monster  would  still  be 
finer  than  the  finest  dust  of  wheaten  flour. 

The  smallest  bacteria  or  infusoria,  found  so  abundantly  in  foul 
waters,  and  which  can  only  be  seen  under  the  higher  powers  of 
the  microscope,  are  the  proprietors  each  one  of  something  like 
four  million  million  molecules. 

I  have  already  mentioned  the  germs  of  the  infusorium  which 
Dr.  Dallinger  saw  under  a  magnification  of  five  thousand  diam- 
eters as  little  clouds  issuing  from  the  cyst.*  He  tells  us  that  he 
once  watched  these  clouds  two  weeks  before  they  had  increased  in 
size  sufficiently  for  him  to  resolve  them  into  discrete  points — as  the 
astronomer  resolves  the  distant  nebula  into  the  faint  glimmer  of 
separate  stars ;  both  observations  being  on  the  extremest  bounds 
of  the  power  of  magnified  vision.  From  this  point  of  first 
resolution,  the  germs  gradually  developed  in  about  two  days  into 

•Lecture  before  the  British  A.  A.  S.,  Montreal,  1884. 


12  BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 

full  grown  ciliated  monads,  fifty  millions  of  which,  he  tells  us, 
could  easily  disport  in  a  drop  of  water.  Now  these  germs  when 
they  first  became  barely  visible  under  the  Doctor's  famous  25th, 
could  not  have  been  mucli  smaller  than  the  one  hundred-thousandth 
of  an  inch.  Therefore  they  were  composed  of  about  10,000 
million  molecules  each.  That  is  an  aggregate  of  10,000  million 
molecules  is  the  vanishing  point  of  microscopic  vision.  But 
even  these,  it  strikes  me,  are  enough  to  build  up  a  very  respect- 
able little  body.  There  are  not  as  many  parts  in  any  house  in 
the  land,  bricks,  boards,  tiles,  nails  and  all. 

The  canning  of  fruits  and  vegetables  is  now  a  domestic  art. 
Every  house-wife  knows  that  if  the  cans  are  properly  scalded  and 
sealed  while  hot,  they  will  keep  sweet  for  any  length  of  time. 
But  if  opened  to  the  air  they  will  sour  and  spoil  in  a  very  few 
days.  Now  this  last  condition  is  simply  the  production  in  them 
of  enormous  numbers  of  what  is  called  the  Bacterium  termo, 
about  the  smallest  living  thing  that  is  known,  somewhat  oval  or 
cylindrical  in  shape,  with  two  cilia  or  minute  hairs  at  one  end, 
which  lash  the  water,  producing  a  rapid  jerking  motion.  It  is  of 
a  plant  nature,  or  at  least  is  so  called,  and  increases  by  sub- 
division, in  a  short  time  completely  filling  the  liquid  and  absorb- 
ing all  the  nutrient  matter.  Then  follow  the  tribes  of  the 
infusoria,  little  voracious  animals,  which  seem  successively  to  de- 
vour the  bacteria  and  then  themselves.  But  whence  came  the 
bacteria  and  then  the  infusoria  ?  They  were  not  in  the  water  nor 
in  the  fruit ;  for  if  they  had  been,  the  preparation  that  had  been 
sealed  up  would  have  immediately  spoiled.  The  first  thing  which 
the  microscopist  sees  with  his  favorite  8th  or  10th  is  a  swarm  of 
these  full  grown  organisms  lazily  rolling  or  darting  and  frisking 
about.  They  must  have  come  then  either  from  spontaneous 
generation  or  from  spores  and  germs  let  down  into  the  infusions 
from  the  air.  But  it  is  now  pretty  well  established  that  there  is 
no  spontaneous  generation  —  no  life  except  through  antecedent 
life.  Therefore  the  latter,  or  the  air-germ  theory,  is  the  only 
true  explanation.  But  no  one  has  ever  seen  these  germs  in  the 
air,  and  we  must  consequently  suppose  that  they  are  beyond  the 
reach  of  microscopic  vision. 


BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION.  13 

Epidemic  and  contageous  diseases  are  now  recognized  and 
treated  as  produced  and  propagated  by  living  organisms.  Our 
systems  of  quarantine  and  disinfection  are  founded  on  this  theory. 
In  the  case  of  most  of  these  diseases,  there  has  been  discovered 
and  described  the  veritable  bacteria  or  bacillus  which  is  the  cause 
and  virus  of  each.  But  still  there  are  some,  including  malarial, 
yellow  and  typhus  fevers,  equally  well  known  to  be  germ-diseases, 
the  cause  or  contagium  of  which  has  never  been  discovered, 
although  you  may  be  sure  it  has  been  diligently  sought  for. 
These  diseases  have  their  regular  periods  of  growth  and  culmi- 
nation, of  intermittence,  or  relapse  and  repetition.  "We  know 
that  there  is  something  in  them  that  grows  and  dies ;  but  what  it 
is  no  power  of  the  microscope  has  yet  revealed.  In  this  case 
then,  both  the  germs  and  the  full  grown  product  of  the  germs  are 
below  the  limit  of  magnified  vision. 

Evidently  the  scale  of  life  does  not  stop  at  or  near  the  limit 
which  the  present  state  of  the  optician's  art  prescribes  to  the 
extent  of  our  vision.  And  there  is  no  assignable  reason  why  it 
should.  The  smallest  living  creature  that  has  ever  been  seen 
under  the  glass,  has  at  least  a  million  million  units  to  work  with. 
But  it  may  be  a  million  times  smaller,  and  yet  have  the  very 
respectable  number  of  a  million  structural  units,  infinitesimal 
bricks,  with  which  to  build  its  simple  little  house  of  a  single 
room. 

So  you  see  there  is  the  easy  possibility,  and  even  probability, 
of  another  realm  of  the  living  kingdoms  far  below  the  reach  of 
the  microscope.  And  in  strong  corroboration  of  this  conclusion, 
is  the  fact,  as  shown  by  the  beautiful  experiments  of  Professor 
Tyndall,  that  the  blue  color  of  both  the  sea  and  sky  is  produced  by 
an  infinite  number  of  minute,  and  as  he  thinks  organic,  particles 
suspended  therein,  much  smaller  than  the  wave  lengths  of  light, 
which  are  on  the  average  about  the  one  fifty-thousandth  of  an 
inch. 

If  you  take  a  glass  jar  full  of  pure  distilled  water,  which  is 
perfectly  colorless,  and  while  stirring  let  fall  into  it  a  drop  or 
two  of  a  solution  of  resin  or  gum  mastic  in  alcohol,  you  will  have 
a  liquid  slowly  passing  from  pellucid  water  into  the  most  beauti- 


14  BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 

ful  marine  and  ultra-marine  blue,  and  then  into  a  milky  and 
opaque  white.  For  resin,  though  perfectly  soluble  in  alcohol,  is 
insoluble  in  water ;  and  by  carefully  mixing  them  as  we  have 
described,  the  particles  of  the  gum  are  first  in  a  state  of  molecu- 
lar division,  in  which  they  are  totally  invisible  ;  then  by  grad- 
ual aggregation  they  become  large  enough  to  chip  off  and  scatter 
some  of  the  blue  rays  of  light,  which  are  those  of  shortest 
vibration  ;  and  finally  they  become  sufficiently  large  to  intercept 
all  light.  This  is  the  explanation  of  the  colors  of  deep  waters, 
verging  from  blue  to  dark  green. 

Again,  there  are  certain  gaseous  compounds  which  sunlight  is 
competent  to  gradually  decompose  into  their  original  elements. 
One  is  sulphurous  acid  gas,  composed  of  two  atoms  of  oxygen 
and  one  of  sulphur.  It  is  the  pungent  gas  one  smells  when  a 
sulphur  match  is  lighted.  A  beam  of  sunlight  passing  through 
a  glass  jar  containing  this  gas,  literally  shakes  the  atoms  apart, 
leaving  the  oxygen  as  a  pure  transparent  gas,  and  the  solid  sulphur 
atoms  suspended  in  it.  For  about  two  minutes  no  change  of 
color  is  seen ;  after  that  time  the  sulphur  atoms  will  have  joined 
together  into  sufficiently  large  particles  to  affect  the  blue  rays  of 
light.  Then  for  fifteen  minutes  the  color  of  the  gas  is  a  grad- 
ually deepening  blue,  and  finally  a  thick  opaque  white.  This 
exemplifies  in  a  beautiful  manner  the  cause  of  the  deep  azure 
blue  of  our  clear  skies.  There  are  scattered,  through  all  the 
regions  of  the  air,  minute  particles  of  matter,  small  in  comparison 
to  the  length  of  light  waves,  which  deflect  and  scatter  some  of 
the  smaller  and  less  energetic  undulations  of  the  sun-beams ; 
and  this  light,  left  behind  in  the  swift  passage  of  the  solar  rays, 
remains  as  the  ever-blue  firmament  of  the  skies. 

That  this  light-scattering  dust  is  mainly  organic,  that  is,  the 
product  in  some  way  of  living  things,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that 
it  can  all  be  burned  out  of  any  particular  enclosure,  and  the  air 
therein  be  left  perfectly  light  pure.  If  sunlight  is  passed  through 
a  small  apperture  into  a  dark  room,  its  passage  through  the  air 
will  be  marked  by  a  white  streak,  from  reflection  against  the 
particles  of  matter  which  it  meets.  But  if  a  platinum  wire  be 
raised  to  a  white  heat  in  this  room  by  the  electric  battery,  and 


BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION.  15 

kept  there  for  a  half  an  hour  or  more,  every  particle  of  reflecting 
matter  in  it  will  be  burned  out,  and  thereafter  the  track  of  a  sun 
beam  through  this  air  will  be  as  black  as  through  a  perfect  vac- 
uum. Now  the  inorganic  material  of  our  world  has  been  long 
ago  all  burned  up,  and  there  is  nothing  now  that  burns  except  new 
formed,  that  is,  organic  substances.  Therefore  the  sky  dust  is 
clearly  of  organic  origin. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  air  which  covers,  and  the  winds  which 
blow,  over  the  regions  of  prolific  life,  and  especially  the  busy 
haunts  of  men,  are  loaded  with  the  gerrns  and  spores  of  every 
kind  of  infinitesimal  organisms.  The  seeds  of  decay,  of  ferment, 
of  disease,  and  of  the  myriad  forms  of  infusorial  life,  must 
abound  in  the  air  which  surrounds  us.  For  not  an  animal  ceases 
to  breathe,  or  a  plant  to  live,  or  a  particle  of  organic  matter  to 
be  exposed,  but  it  is  in  a  very  short  time  invaded  by  the  peculiar 
organism  that  seems  to  exist  for  the  destruction  of  each. 

Now  this  is  not  so  on.  the  heights  of  mountains,  or  even  on  our 
dry  western  plains.  Meats  may  be  preserved,  and  organic  infu- 
sions kept  sweet,  when  exposed  in  such  localities,  for  a  longtime. 
Cattle  that  die  on  the  western  ranges  dry  up  before  decay  sets  in, 
and  sealed  cans  of  provisions  opened  on  the  higher  summits  of 
mountains  will  remain  preserved  for  any  length  of  time,  showing 
that  the  germs  of  putrefaction  and  ordinary  decay  do  not  exist  in 
the  dry  air  of  elevated  plains  nor  in  the  upper  regions  of  the 
atmosphere. 

But  organic  matter  is  there  in  abundance,  for  the  same  deep 
blue  skies  are  above  the  highest  peaks  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
that  are  over  us  here  to-night.  Therefore  it  is  probable  that  the 
germ  life  of  the  upper  skies,  whatever  it  may  be,  never  develops 
into  anything  that  becomes  sensible  to  our  means  of  observation. 

But  I  propose,  if  you  will  kindly  have  the  patience  to  follow 
me,  to  lead  you  down  some  long  steps  further  into  infinitesimal 
magnitudes,  to  give  you  an  idea  of  one  of  the  boldest  specu- 
lations in  regard  to  the  ultimate  constitution  of  matter,  which 
the  mind  of  man  has  ever  conceived. 

It  is  common  knowledge  that  the  chemists  describe  and  give 
names  to  about  seventy/ elementary  substances,  or  forms  of  matter 


16  BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 

which  cannot  be  further  decomposed,  or  reduced  to  anything 
simpler,  by  any  means  known  to  them.  Still  there  are  few  who 
really  believe  that  those  simple  elements  are  the  last  and  lowest 
condition  of  matter.  The  physicist  who  has  not  had  his  dream 
or  his  theory  of  the  unification  of  all  matter,  must  be  the  one 
who  never  thinks  beyond  the  tables.  I  will  endeavor  to  explain 
to  you  that  one  which  has  occupied  such  minds  as  those  of 
Helmholtz,  Maxwell  and  Sir  William  Thomson. 

It  is  now  no  longer  questioned  that  all  space  is  filled  with  a 
highly  elastic,  all-pervading  ether.  Light  and  heat  are  simply 
wave  motions,  and  it  is  impossible  that  they  should  come  to  us 
from  the  stars  and  the  sun,  except  there  were  something  to  move, 
some  material  medium  all  the  way  from  those  bodies  to  the  earth. 
Again,  this  medium  retards  light  in  coming  from  the  sun  to  the 
earth  just  eight  and  one  half  minutes.  Now  one  of  the  defini- 
tions of  matter  is,  that  which  presents  an  obstacle  to  force. 
Therefore  the  luminiferous  ether,  which  does  present  an  obstacle 
to  the  passage  of  the  light  force,  is  material  in  its  composition. 
It  is  perfectly  elastic,  that  is,  its  parts  move  among  themselves 
without  friction,  as  is  shown  by  the  almost  instantaneous  passage 
of  the  radiant  forces  through  it  (182,000  miles  in  a  second).  It 
is  beyond  all  conception  minute  in  its  structure,  for  it  fills  in 
between  the  ordinary  particles  of  matter,  so  that  light,  which  uses 
only  this  medium  for  its  transmission,  passes  almost  as  readily 
through  air  as  through  space,  but  is  a  little  retarded  in  the  more 
solid  material  of  glass  and  transparent  crystals.  Thus  we  have 
furnished  us  a  material  substance  pervading  all  space,  of  the 
utmost  tenuity  and  elasticity.  Let  us  see  if  there  is  any  way  in 
which  atoms  and  molecules  could  be  manufactured  out  of  it. 

You  have  all  probably  seen  a  tobacco  smoker  make  little  rings 
of  smoke  from  his  mouth,  or  a  steam  locomotive,  when  just 
starting,  puff  up  great  black  rings  of  smoke  that  ascend  to  consid- 
erable distances  unbroken.  I  wish  I  could  show  you  the  beautiful 
illustration  of  this  which  Prof.  Tait  exhibits  to  his  audiences. 
He  produces  by  chemicals  a  dense  smoke  in  a  box  some  eighteen 
inches  square,  with  a  cloth  stretched  over  one  end,  and  a  round 
hole  in  the  opposite  side.  Then  some  smart  blows  struck  on  the 


BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION.  17 

cloth  send  out  through  the  opposite  hole  ring  after  ring  of  the 
smoke,  chasing  arid  passing  through  each  other,  bounding  and 
vibrating  as  they  come  into  contact.  These  are  what  are  called 
vortex  rings,  little  whirlpools  in  the  air.  The  particles  of  the 
smoke  are  rapidly  revolving  in  the  perimeter  of  the  ring,  and  a 
constant  current  of  air  is  passing  through  the  center.  You  would 
feel  this  little  blast  of  air  quite  sensibly  if  you  placed  your  cheek 
in  the  way  of  one  of  these  vortex  rings. 

Ilelmholtz  has  shown  by  mathematical  demonstration  that  if 
the  air  were  a  perfect  fluid,  that  is  if  it  flowed  in  all  its  parts 
absolutely  without  friction,  those  rings  once  started  would  go  on 
rolling  forever,  and  no  power  could  destroy  them,  for  they 
instantly  bound  away  from  every  thing  that  would  touch  them. 

Furthermore,  Helmholtz  has  shown  that  in  such  a  fluid  the 
form  of  the  rings  need  not  necessarily  be  circles,  but  may  be 
figure  eights,  or  any  other  continuous  and  knotted  folds.  And 
the  form  impressed  on  them  at  their  birth  will  continue  to  be 
their  form  as  long  as  matter  lasts. 

Now  this  is  the  essence  of  that  bold  conception  which  I  told 
you  about  concerning  the  constitution  of  the  ultimate  atoms 
which  go  to  make  up  our  world.  Minute  portions  of  the  infinite- 
ly fine  and  subtle  matter  of  universal  space  are  in  some  way  set 
to  whirling  in  innumerable  little  eddies  and  in  certain  stable 
forms,  which  by  the  incessant  beating  of  the  etherial  particles,  are 
compelled  to  approach  each  other,  yet  when  they  strike,  their  own 
vortex  motion  makes  them  rebound  and  react  on  each  other  in 
the  manner  constituting  molecular  motion. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  the  atoms  were  first  started  in  this 
vortical  whirl ;  nor  why  they  are  of  certain  constant  patterns, 
and  in  a  certain  limited  number  of  forms.  Nor  can  I  tell  why 
they  join  together  so  capriciously  to  form  the  various  substances 
which  surround  us.  But  this  I  know,  that  when  once  the  atoms 
have  been  cast  in  their  tiny  moulds  and  emptied  into  space  in  the 
quantity  and  with  the  affinities  they  have,  it  is  not  a  difficult 
thing  to  build  a  world  out  of  them,  nor  to  account  for  the  laws 
which  will  govern  it. 


18  BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 

As  to  the  materials  of  tins  world-structure,  they  fell  into  place 
as  naturally  as  did  the  stones  in  Solomon's  temple,  for  they  were 
fitted  for  it  from  the  beginning.  They  could  not  do  otherwise. 
As  to  the  laws,  I  will  instance  only  two.  And  to  explain  the  law 
of  gravitation,  allow  me  to  use  a  homely  illustration.  If  two 
balls  were  suspended  near  each  other,  and  everybody  was  striking 
at  them,  they  would  naturally  receive  more  blows  on  the  outer 
and  exposed  sides  than  on  the  inner  and  somewhat  protected  sides. 
Therefore,  they  would  of  necessity  approach  each  other.  So  fhe 
incessant  beating  of  etherial  particles  against  the  unprotected 
sides  of  two  atoms  or  molecules  near  each  other  would  make 
them  approach.  And  what  is  true  of  two,  may  be  shown  to  be 
true  of  twenty,  a  million  or  worlds  of  them.  The  mathematicians 
say  that  the  law  of  this  approach  would  be  exactly  that  of  the 
attraction  of  gravitation. 

Take  again  the  laws  of  chemical  affinity.  We  found  in  the 
case  of  the  smoke-rings,  that  there  was  a  constant  suction  of  air 
through  their  centers.  This  might  be  called  their  polarity,  for 
they  would  attract  at  one  end  and  repel  at  the  other.  Now  atoms 
have  exactly  this  polarity ;  and  if  by  any  means,  any  two  were 
backed  up  to  each  other,  with  their  streams  flowing  in  opposite 
directions,  I  think  they  would  hold  to  each  other,  not  quite  in 
contact.  A  figure  eight  vortex  ring  might  hold  two  simple 
rings.  You  see  there  is  opportunity  here  for  the  play  of  any 
amount  of  ingenuity. 

But  I  will  remind  you  again  that  this  theory  of  the  constitu- 
tion of  atoms  is  only  an  hypothesis.  It  may,  or  it  may  not,  be 
true.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  materials  and  conditions  suited 
to  it  are  in  existence,  and  it  seems  to  be  a  possible  and  even 
quite  probable  supposition.  At  least,  so  think  some  of  the  most 
thoroughly  scientific  men  of  the  present  time. 

But  if  true,  what  an  astounding  conception  does  it  give  us  of 
the  infinitesimal  world  of  matter!  Every  atom  of  the  countless 
multitudes  that  make  up  even  the  smallest  thing  we  know  of,  is 
itself  composed  of  millions  on  millions  of  etherial  particles, 
rolling  in  ceaseless  flow  and  impelled  by  the  same  forces  that  move 
the  rolling  worlds  of  space. 


BEYOND    THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION.  19 

It  is  such  conceptions  as  tliese  which  have  forced  the  scientist 
to  the  conclusion  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  absolute  size  in 
nature.  There  is  relative  greatness  or  smallness,  nothing  more. 
Fix  your  minds  on  anything  apparently  great  or  small ;  there  is 
still  an  infinite  range  of  objects  greater  or  smaller,  above  or  below 
it.  But  the  absolutely  great  or  small  is  never  reached. 

There  is  another  conclusion.  However  far  we  may  carry  our 
researches  into  the  recesses  of  nature,  however  much  we  widen 
the  limits  of  natural  and  explainable  causes,  we  always  come  at 
last  to  the  point  where  it  is  necessary  to  acknowledge  the  inter- 
vention of  some  will  or  potency  beyond  the  powers  of  nature. 
Natural  causes  may  construct  a  universe  when  the  means  and 
materials  have  been  supplied.  But  no  conceivable  powers  of 
nature  can  start  into  being  the  ever-rolling  self-impelling  mi- 
croscoms  that  are  to  evolve  this  mighty  structure.  Matter  and 
force  may  be  eternal,  and  the  units  of  matter  may  eternally  have 
moved  and  clashed  in  obedience  to  that  force ;  but  when  that 
molecular  motion  was  transformed  into  the  vortical  motion  of 
innumerable  little  atoms  of  exactest  weight  and  measure,  we 
know  that  a  controlling  will  was  there  ;  for  the  atoms  could  never 
have  measured  themselves  out,  nor  set  themselves  to  rolling. 

And  when  in  two  totally  different  moulds,  two  different  atoms 
were  formed  which,  in  a  myriad  ages  thereafter,  were  to  unite 
to  form  the  element  of  water,  which  alone  could  make  the  aggre- 
gations of  the  other  elements  fit  sustainers  of  life,  we  know 
that  a  forecasting  mind  was  there,  for  a  far-reaching  plan  was 
formed. 

The  atoms  themselves  bear  the  stamp  of  a  master  workman- 
ship. Each  one  after  its  kind  is  a  perfect  copy  of  every  other. 
There  is  not  the  shadow  of  a  variation  in  mass  or  weight  or 
properties.  Each  kind  is  exactly  fitted  to  attach  itself  to  some 
other,  either  in  pairs  of  atoms,  or  triplets,  or  some  definite  number. 
And  the  substances  which  each  union  brings  out  are  totally  differ- 
ent from  every  other,  yet  seemingly  essential  to  the  make  up  of 
our  diversified  world.  Sir  John  Herschel  has  well  said,  that  the 
atoms  have  the  essential  character  of  manufactured  articles,  and 
that  this  precludes  the  idea  of  their  being  eternal  and  self -existent. 


20  BEYOND   THE    LIMITS    OF    VISION. 

Out  of  the  myriad  forms  in  which  we  must  suppose  it  possible 
to  have  moulded  the  formative  matter  of  the  universe,  only  a 
few  were  chosen.  Out  of  the  infinite  variation  of  quantities  in 
which  they  might  have  been  supplied,  only  that  proportion  was 
adopted  which  made  a  world  that  could  be  the  home  of  living 
beings.  To  this  end,  that  of  life  in  nature,  conspire  a  thousand 
coincidences  in  the  creation  and  endowment  of  matter,  each  and 
all  of  which  we  would  have  no  difficulty  in  imagining  might 
just  as  well  have  been  otherwise.  The  chances  are  then  infinity 
to  one  against  the  concurrence  of  all  these  favoring  circumstances. 

What  shall  we  say  then  ?  Is  the  world  that  bears  us  up,  that 
feeds  us,  that  delights  our  every  sense,  a  fortuitous  jumble  of 
chaotic  matter?  Did  the  grim  specter  of  chance  preside  at  the 
birth  of  the  little  world-workers  that  have  evolved  this  beautiful 
Cosmos?  I  am  myself  an  unpretending  reasoner.  But  every 
sense  I  have  revolts  at  the  idea  of  an  uncreated  machine  that 
works  a  plan  with  never  one  mistake.  For  myself,  I  cannot  but 
think  that  he  who  sees  no  intelligence  back  of  all  this  amazing 
structure  of  the  universe,  must  be  the  man  whom  "  the  gods  have 
first  made  mad." 


THE    POLAR     GLACIERS/ 


The  center  of  gravity  of  the  earth  is  the  center  of  the  sphere 
formed  by  the  surface  of  the  oceans ;  or  rather,  owing  to  the 
flattening  of  the  earth  at  the  poles,  it  is  a  point  equally  distant, 
in  opposite  directions,  from  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  waters, 
being  free  to  move,  must  of  necessity  conform  themselves  to 
this  equidistance  from  the  gravitating  center  of  the  whole  mass. 
Inasmuch,  then,  as  any  plane  which  cuts  the  earth  into  two  parts 
through  its  center  of  gravity,  must  equally  divide  the  weight  of 
the  whole  earth,  it  follows  also  that  the  sam-e  plane  would  exactly 
bisect  the  great  spheroid  of  the  oceans.  In  each  hemisphere  the 
sea-level  in  all  corresponding  parts  would  be  at  the  same  distance 
from  this  center  and  whatever  land  and  mountains  there  might 
be  above  the  ocean  in  one  half  would  have  to  be  counterbalanced 
by  land,  or  an  excess  of  weight  of  some  sort,  in  the  other  half. 
And  this  counterpoising  weight  must  itself  rise  above  the  level 
of  the  sea,  unless  we  say  that  one  side  of  the  world  is  composed 
of  heavier  materials  than  the  other,  of  which  there  is  not  the 
least  evidence  or  probability. 

If  the  plane  thus  dividing  the  earth  be  that  of  its  equator, 
there  will  be  found  in  the  northern  hemisphere  about  44,000,000 
square  miles  of  land,  and  in  the  southern,  so  far  as  is  known, 
about  16,000,000  square  miles.  Now,  the  great  problem  in 
physical  geography  is :  What  is  there  in  the  southern  hemi- 
sphere to  counterbalance  this  great  excess  of  land  in  the  northern  ? 

Humboldt  has  estimated  that,  if  the  mountains  and  highlands 
of  Asia  were  leveled  down  and  made  to  fill  up  evenly  the  low 
places,  the  wrhole  continent  wrould  have  a  uniform  height  of 

*  Published  in  Popular  Science  Monthly  in  April  and  June,  1876.  The  MS  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
Publishers  some  months  before  the  appearance  of  Croll's  work  on  the  same  subject,  "  Climate 
and  Time." 


22  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

1,150  feet  above  the  sea.  In  like  manner,  South  America  would 
have  a  height  of  1,130  feet ;  North  America  of  750  feet ;  and 
Europe  of  670  feet.  The  averasjp  of  the  whole  he  estimates  at 
920  feet.  Of  the  mainlands  not  included  in  the  above — namely, 
Africa,  Australia,  the  polar  lands,  and  islands — about  as  much  is 
north  as  south  of  the  equator.  So  that  wre  may  safely  estimate 
that  there  is  in  the  northern  hemisphere  an  excess  of  28,000,000 
square  miles  of  land,  of  the  average  height  above-mentioned,  to 
be  counterpoised  by  something  yet  to  be  found  in  the  southern 
hemisphere. 

If  there  is  an  excess  in  the  quantity  or  bulk  of  water  south  of 
the  equator  over  that  north  of  it,  then  the  difference  of  weight 
between  this  excess  and  so  much  land,  which  is  about  in  the 
proportion  of  one  to  two  and  a  half,  must  be  added  to  the  un- 
known quantity  which  we  are  soon  to  look  for  above  the  southern 
seas.  As  there  is,  of  course,  the  same  excess  of  water-surface 
south  of  the  equator  that  there  is  of  land-surface  north  of  it,  and 
as  we  may  very  safely  assume  that  the  oceans  have  a  mean  depth  of 
at  least  3,220  feet  (3^-  X  920)  and  that  the  southern  waters  average 
as  deep  as  the  northern,  it  follows  that  our  unknown  quantity  is  at 
the  very  least  doubled  by  the  above  considerations.  We  have, 
therefore,  to  seek  in  the  southern  hemisphere  what  will  balance 
28,000,000  square  miles  of  land  at  least  1,840  feet  high. 

We  look  over  the  map  of  the  world,  and  down  near  the  bottom 
we  find  some  uncertain  landmarks  with  many  breaks,  but  on  the 
whole  tracing  out  very  nearly  the  antarctic  circle,  and  indicating 
that  there  is,  covering  nearly  all  that  zone,  an  unexplored  and 
scarcely  discovered  country.  This  impenetrable  region  is  esti- 
mated to  be  as  large  as  the  continent  of  North  America,  about 
8,000,000  square  miles.  A  very  little  arithmetic  will  now  prove 
the  bold  claim  which  I  here  make,  that,  even  supposing  the  wrhole 
of  this  region  to  be  land  of  the  average  continental  height,  there 
is  still  required  over  it  all  an  average  thickness  of  two  and  a  half 
miles  of  solid  ice  to  make  the  southern  hemisphere  equal  the 
northern  in  weight. 

This  result  of  calculation  is  well  confirmed  by  the  information 
which  all  southern  navigators  have  brought  back  from  those  most 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  23 

desolate  and  ice-bound  regions.  The  zone  of  the  antarctic  lias 
been  encroached  upon  only  in  a  small  space  south  of  the  Pacific. 
On  every  other  side,  so  far  as  has  been  discovered,  mountains  of 
ice  block  the  way  on  and  near  the  polar  circle,  which  seems  to  be 
the  great  ice-barrier  of  the  south  pole.  Discoverers  suppose 
what  they  have  looked  upon  to  be  land,  but  rarely  have  they 
ever  seen  anything  but  rolling  ranges  of  ice  and  snow  rising 
higher  and  higher  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  In  the  most 
open  of  the  south-polar  seas,  Sir  James  Ross,  in  1841,  sailed  450 
miles  along  an  unbroken  cliff  of  ice  from  150  to  250  feet  high, 
and  of  unknown  depth  beneath  the  water.  It  was  one  of  the 
vast  antarctic  glaciers  pushing  down  into  the  sea,  from  which 
some  of  those  southern  icebergs  were  broken  off,  that  navigators 
have  frequently  laid  down  for  islands,  while  the  next  sailor  that 
voyaged  that  way  found  open  water  where  they  were  charted. 

Not  a  sign  of  vegetation,  not  an  indication  of  thawing,  has 
ever  been  discovered  within  or  near  the  antarctic  circle,  whereas 
there  are  aboriginal  races  and  numerous  settlements  of  civilized 
communities  on  every  side  within  the  arctic  circle.  The  whale- 
boat  or  the  dog-sledge  has  traversed  the  arctics  and  found  the 
sea-level  in  almost  every  degree  of  high  latitude.  In  the  south 
no  adventurer  has  yet  penetrated  within  probably  1,500  miles  of 
the  center  of  greatest  cold.  Whence  comes  this  great  differ- 
ence in  the  climate  and  ice  accumulations  of  the  two  poles  of 
the  earth  ?  It  is  the  object  of  this  article  to  inquire  if,  in  the 
astronomical  relations  of  our  planet,  there  are  found  any  sufficient 
causes  for  such  differences. 

The  path  of  the  earth  about  the  sun  once  every  year  is  an 
ellipse,  with  the  sun  in  one  of  the  foci  or  centers.  An  ellipse  is 
a  circular  figure  having  two  centers  instead  of  one ;  that  is,  the 
circumference  is  everywhere  equally  distant  from  the  two  centers 
taken  together- — the  sum  of  the  two  distances  is  always  the  same. 
Therefore,  the  sun  being  in  one  of  these  centers,  the  earth  is 
nearer  to  it  in  one  half  of  the  year  than  in  the  other.  At  the 
present  time  the  nearest  approach,  or  the  perigee,  occurs  about 
the  1st  day  of  January ;  and  the  earth  is  at  that  time  3,200,000 
miles  nearer  to  the  sun  than  it  is  on  the  1st  day  of  July. 


24:  THE   POLAK    GLACIERS. 

It  is  a  peculiar  property  of  bodies  revolving  in  elliptical  orbits, 
that  they  travel  faster  when  near  the  center  of  attraction  than 
when  further  away.  It  follows,  from  the  second  of  the  three 
great  laws  of  planetary  motion  discovered  by  Kepler,  that  the 
line  connecting  the  two  bodies  must  pass  over  equal  areas  in  equal 
times.  The  earth  passes  through  our  winter  portion  of  its  orbit, 
that  is,  from  autumnal  to  vernal  equinox,  in  eight  days  less  time 
than  through  the  summer  part  of  it.  In  the  southern  hemi- 
sphere of  course  the  condition  of  things  is  reversed,  and  the 
winter  there  is  eight  days  longer  than  the  summer.  Moreover, 
the  sun  is  at  its  greatest  distance  from  the  earth  during  the  long 
southern  winter,  and  at  its  least  in  the  short  northern  winter. 

Of  the  two  causes,  I  regard  the  first  as  of  main  importance. 
Distance  from  the  sun,  whatever  theory  may  be,  does  not  seem 
to  have  much  effect  upon  climate.  The  southern  summers,  when 
the  sun  is  over  3,000,000  miles  nearer  the  earth,  are  said  to  be 
even  some  degrees  cooler  than  the  same  seasons  in  corresponding 
localities  of  the  northern  hemisphere.  And  to  take  an  extreme 
example,  Mars,  which  is  50,000,000  miles  further  from  the  sun 
than  the  earth  is,  has  snow-lines  about  its  poles  which  reach  no 
nearer  the  equator  than  on  our  planet  in  corresponding  seasons. 
But  the  excess  or  diminution  of  eight  days  in  the  winters  of 
climates  which,  even  in  their  warmest  seasons,  barely  balance  on 
the  thawing  point  of  ice,  is  a  true  cause  in  polar  conditions  and 
differences.  Considering  that  these  days  affect  chiefly  the  period 
of  briefest  sunshine,  it  amounts  to  quite  one-twentieth  of  the 
whole  power  of  the  sun  on  a  hemisphere.  This  difference  would 
not  be  apparent  in  the  warm  regions  of  the  globe,  where  there  is 
always  an  excess  of  heat  which  is  carried  off  by  evaporation  and 
ocean-currents ;  but  it  would  exert  nearly  its  full  force  in  polar 
regions  which  are  unaffected  by  those  influences. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  it  is  the  sun's  heat  which  prevents  the 
temperature  of  the  earth  from  sinking  to,  or  very  near  to,  the 
absolute  zero  of  cold,  wherever  in  the  thermometrical  scale  that 
may  be.  Chemists  have  produced  a  cold  estimated  at  257°  below 
zero,  of  Fahr.*  It  is  not  by  any  means  probable  that  this  reaches 

*  The  temperature  of  stellar  space  is  estimated  by  Sir  John  Herschel  and  others  at  -239°  Falir. 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  25 

the  entire  absence  of  heat.  But  on  the  supposition  that  it  is  so, 
and  that  polar  regions  are  unaffected  by  the  air  or  water  currents 
of  the  tropics,  then  an  excess  of  eight  winter  days  would  lessen 
a  polar  temperature  15°,  and  unquestionably  amount  to  the 
difference  of  an  accumulation  of  ice  and  snow  year  after  year, 
instead  of  the  annual  thawing,  during  each  summer,  of  the 
winter's  increase. 

This  is  precisely  what  is,  or  has  been,  taking  place  at  the  re- 
spective poles  of  the  earth.  Year  after  year,  probably  for  a  long 
period,  there  has  been  a  steady  accumulation  of  ice-material 
about  the  south  pole,  adding  weight  to  that  hemisphere.  Then, 
in  proportion  to  this  increase,  the  center  of  gravity  of  the  earth 
has  moved  a  little  toward  the  south ;  and  the  waters,  always 
obedient  to  this  controlling  point,  have  gradually  gathered  into 
the  southern  seas,  covering  the  lowlands  and  plains  of  islands  and 
continents.  At  the  same  time  the  waters  were  drawn  away  from 
the  north-polar  regions,  uncovering  lands,  and  leaving  bays  and 
sounds  and  inlets  innumerable.  The  geography  of  the  countries 
fully  corresponds  to  these  inferences.  The  seas  of  the  arctics  are 
comparatively  shallow  and  deeply  cut  up,  and  the  lands  are  low- 
lying.  In  the  antarctics  the  oceans  are  deep  and  bayless,  and  all 
the  mainlands  and  islands  are  precipitous  and  craggy,  as  if  they 
were  the  peaks  and  table-lands  of  mountain  ranges. 

It  is  now  the  question  whether  this  state  of  things  is  a  perma- 
nent arrangement — whether  we  of  the  north  side  are  always  to 
have  the  advantage  of  extent  of  territory,  of  fertile  lands  and 
healthful  homes  in  middle  latitudes,  in  short,  of  all  that  makes 
the  rivalry  of  nations,  and  civilization  a  necessity.  To  answer 
this  question  it  will  be  necessary  to  turn  again  to  astronomy,  and 
to  study  for  a  few  moments  some  of  its  more  abstruse  problems. 

In  addition  to  the  rotation  of  the  earth  on  its  axis  once  every 
day,  and  its  revolution  about  the  sun  once  in  a  year,  there  is  also 
a  slow  rolling  motion  of  the  equator,  caused  by  the  attraction 
of  the  sun  on  the  excess  of  matter  in  equatorial  diameters  over 
the  polar.  It  is  precisely  as  when  one  touches  the  rim  of  a  top 
in  rapid  motion  ;  there  is  set  up  at  once  a  slow  gyrating  or  tilting 
roll,  and  the  upper  end  of  the  stem  describes  a  small  circle. 


26  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

Just  so  the  sun  lays  hold  of  the  protuberant  rim  of  the  great 
terrestrial  top,  and  immediately  it  begins  to  oscillate  in  the  long 
secular  period  of  25,868  years ;  while  the  polar  axis,  extended  to 
the  heavens,  describes  in  the  same  length  of  time  a  small  circle 
of  23^°  radius  among  the  northern  or  southern  stars.  This  is 
the  motion  which  causes  what  is  called  the  precession  of  the  equi- 
noxes. The  plane  of  the  earth's  equator  crosses  the  plane  of  its 
orbit ;  and  when  the  earth  is  at  the  points  of  junction,  the  days 
and  nights  are  equal  the  world  over.  These  two  points  therefore 
are  the  equinoxes ;  and  the  earth  passes  through  them  about  the 
21st  days  of  March  and  September.  Owing  to  the  rolling  motion 
of  the  equator  above  described,  these  points,  always  in  the  line 
of  intersection  of  the  two  planes,  pass  successively  through  the 
twelve  signs  or  constellations  of  the  zodiac,  making  slowly  the 
entire  circuit  of  the  heavens.  The  vernal  equinox,  which  now 
points  to,  or  is  on  a  line  between,  the  sun  and  the  constellation  of 
the  Fish,  after  about  26,000  years  will  have  traveled  the  great 
circle  of  the  heavens  and  come  back  again  to  point  to  the  same 
cluster  of  stars,  which  is  now  overhead  at  midnight  on  the  21st 
of  March. 

But  the  time  of  this  revolution,  so  far  as  it  affects  the  climate 
of  the  earth,  is  modified  by  the  following  circumstance :  The 
ellipse  or  oblong  circle  in  which  the  earth  revolves  about  the  sun, 
is  itself  all  the  time  slowly  revolving.  The  long  diameter  of  it, 
the  major  axis,  makes  a  complete  revolution  in  the  heavens 
once  in  110,000  years.  Now  as  this  revolution  is  forward,  or  in 
the  the  same  direction  among  the  constellations  that  the  sun 
appears  to  move,  while  that  of  the  equinoxes  is  retrograde,  it 
follows  that  the  extremities  of  the  major  axis,  which  are  the 
perigee  and  the  apogee,  advance  to  meet  the  equinoctial  points ; 
so  that  the  revolutions,  or  rather  the  conjunctions,  of  the  equi- 
noxes, which  have  to  do  with  terrestrial  climate,  are  accomplished 
in  the  shorter  period  of  21,000  years. 

Now  all  this  astronomy  amounts  to  simply  this ;  that  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  1248  the  earth  was  at  its  nearest  approach  to 
the  sun  on  the  21st  day  of  December,  our  winter  solstice ;  and 
that  in  10,500  years  from  that  time  the  same  thing  will  happen 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  27 

on  the  21st  day  of  June,  our  summer  solstice.  In  the  period 
comprising  the  first  case,  our  winters  are  short  and  mild,  and  our 
summers  long  and  sunny.  During  the  cycle  which  shall  comprise 
the  latter  case,  our  winters  will  be  rigorous  and  our  summers 
short.  The  northern  hemisphere  is  now  having  its  great  summer. 
In  about  10,000  years  it  will  be  in  the  midst  of  its  great  winter; 
and  whatever  differences  there  may  be  between  the  two  hemi- 
spheres, owing  to  astronomical  causes,  will  then  be  in  full  force 
against  the  northern. 

A  distinguished  Scotch  mathematician,  Mr.  James  Croll,*  has 
estimated  that  the  melting  of  a  mile  in  thickness  of  the  present 
antarctic  ice  would  raise  the  sea-level  at  the  north  pole  300  feet, 
and  at  Glasgow  280  feet.  We  have  calculated,  from  data  which 
were  intended  to  be  under-estimates  in  every  case,  that  there 
were  at  least  two  and  a  half  miles  of  average  thickness  in  what 
geographers  call  the  great  ice-cupola  of  the  south  pole.  If 
therefore,  not  only  this  were  removed,  but  an  equal  quantity  of 
ice  were  deposited  at  the  north  pole,  there  would  be  a  deepening 
of  the  sea  at  the  arctic  circle  of  1,500  feet. 

Thus  it  is  seen  that,  as  certainly  as  terrestrial  revolutions  con- 
tinue, in  the  course  of  10,000  years  there  must  come  an  entire 
reversal  of  polar  conditions.  The  southern  waters  must  be 
drained  off  to  make  the  oceans  of  an  opposite  hemisphere.  New 
lands,  enriched  with  the  sediment  of  a  hundred  centuries,  will 
rise  up  to  extend  the  borders  of  the  old  south  continents,  and 
islands  joining  together,  will  expand  into  mainlands.  At  the 
same  time  the  northern  continents  must  be  in  great  part  sub- 
merged, and  their  summits  and  ranges  become  the  bleak  islands 
and  bold  headlands  oi.  a  tempestuous  ocean.  Central  Asia,  with 
its  broad  table-lands,  may  still  retain  the  name  of  a  continent ; 
but  beyond  a  few  outlying  islands,  there  will  be  no  Europe  and 
but  little  of  North  America  left.  The  Atlantic  waters  will  stand 
five  hundred  feet  over  Lake  Superior,  and  wrill  wash  the  base  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  in  all  their  length.  A  new  Gulf  Stream 
may  again,  as  it  must  often  have  done  before,  flow  up  the  valley 
of  the  Mississippi,  returning  the  deltas  to  the  prairies,  and  re- 

*  The  reference  here  is  to  an  article  published  some  years  since  in  the  Philosophical  Magazine. 


28  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

making  the  beds  of  the  garden  of  the  world.  These  are  no  idle 
or  impossible  fancies.  Not  only  are  they  the  results  of  rigorous 
calculation,  but  they  accord  perfectly  with  the  unmistakable 
evidences  which  the  ocean  has  left,  all  over  our  land,  of  its  recent 
wTork  and  presence. 

The  time-honored  geologist,  Sir  Charles  Lyell,  lays  great  stress 
on  the  quantity  of  land  and  the  configuration  of  continents,  as 
chiefly  efficacious  in  the  great  climatic  changes.  But  it  may  be 
pertinently  asked,  what  becomes  of  his  continents  and  configura- 
tions when  the  seas  of  one  pole  advance  to  the  other,  as  they 
unquestionably  do,  as  they  cannot  but  do,  every  10,500  years, 
obedient  to  the  transfer  of  vast  ice- weights  from  one  end  of  the 
world  to  the  other  ?  On  all  the  mountains  of  New  England 
there  are  sea-lines  at  elevations  of  2,000  and  3,000  feet,  and  Lyell 
himself  has  recorded  the  facts.  When  the  ocean  was  that  deep 
over  Boston,  there  were  no  continents  in  the  northern  hemisphere. 
Undoubtedly  the  height  and  direction  of  mountain -ranges,  the 
trending  of  sea-shores,  and  the  course  of  the  ocean  currents, 
have  much  to  do  with  local  climates.  But  instead  of  the  relative 
quantity  or  location  of  land  and  sea  having  any  agency  in  pro- 
ducing the  glacial  periods,  it  is  these  periods  which  produce  the 
land  and  the  sea. 

So  much  for  the  causes  and  conditions  which  pertain  to  the 
geography  of  the  present  and  the  future.  When  now  we  turn 
back  a  few  of  the  leaves  which  tell  us  of  the  past  condition  of 
our  planet,  we  immediately  see  that  the  same  causes  have  been 
at  work  in  recent  geological  times  on  a  much  more  extensive 
scale — in  fact,  that  they  have  been  the  chief  agents  in  composing 
and  modifying  the  present  surface  of  the  earth  outside  of  the 
tropics.  Over  all  the  northern  portions  of  Europe,  Asia  and 
North  America,  are  found  the  unmistakable  evidences  of  exten- 
sive and  recent  ice-work.  Bowlders  of  every  size,  some  worn 
and  some  angular,  are  scattered  in  immense  quantities  over  all 
the  country,  on  the  hills,  on  the  plains,  in  places  where  the  only 
possible  explanation  is  that  they  were  lifted  up,  carried,  and 
dropped,  just  where  they  are  found ;  and  the  great  iceberg  was 
the  carrier.  The  face  of  the  rock-beds,  wherever  brought  to 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  29 

view,  in  the  valleys  or  on  the  mountains,  is  almost  always  found 
to  be  ground  or  polished,  and  over  that,  grooved  and  furrowed 
with  nearly  parallel  scratches.  The  Alpine  glaciers  are  doing 
exactly  the  same  work  to-day.  Erratic  blocks  of  foreign  origin 
and  sometimes  of  enormous  dimensions,  are  frequently  found 
perched  on  the  very  tops  of  hills,  or  stranded  high  up  the  moun- 
tain-sides ;  and  the  quarries  from  which  they  came  are  invariably 
found  to  the  northward,  sometimes  fifty  or  even  a  hundred  miles. 
It  is  argued  that  nothing  but  polar  glaciers  could  thus  have 
moved  them  in  uniformly  meridional  lines.  The  scrapings  of 
grounding  ice-floes,  the  marks  of  ancient  sea-shores,  and  marine 
relics  and  shells,  are  found  at  elevations  of  several  thousand  feet 
above  the  present  ocean-level.  There  is  no  escaping  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  northern  continents  have  been,  in  not  remote  ages, 
deeply  submerged  beneath  an  ice-laden  sea ;  and  that  the  entire 
polar  and  north  temperate  regions,  extending  in  some  places 
south  of  the  fortieth  parallel  of  latitude,  have  been  capped  with 
one  massive  covering  of  ice  of  great  thickness.  Precisely  the 
same  evidences  are  found  in  South  America,  and  according  to 
Agassiz,  even  much  nearer  the  equator  than  in  North  America. 
We  have  again  to  search  our  astronomy  for  causes  many  times 
more  powerful  than  any  thing  we  have  yet  found,  for  differences 
of  polar  temperatures. 

The  earth  is  made  to  revolve  in  an  orbit  drawn  out  of  the 
circular  form  by  the  combined  attractions  of  the  other  planets, 
Jupiter  carrying  the  controlling  influence.  When  the  average 
of  all  these  forces  for  long  periods  is  more  in  one  direction  than 
in  another,  our  planet  is  drawn  away  from  the  sun  on  that  side. 
Now  it  must  occasionally  happen,  with  the  various  periods  of 
revolution  of  the  planets,  that  they  will  unite  at  times  to  produce 
extreme  irregularities.  The  present  difference  between  the 
nearest  and  farthest  distance  of  the  sun  from  us  is  3,200,000 
miles.  It  is  found,  by  calculating  back  the  planetary  orbits  and 
conjunctions,  that  this  focal  distance  has  been  as  much  as  14,000,- 
000  miles.  There  was  at  such  a  time,  an  excess  of  thirty-nine 
winter  days  during  each  year  of  the  great  secular  winter  of  either 
pole.  This  exceptionally  high  eccentricity  occurred,  according  to 


30  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

the  calculations  of  Mr.  James  Croll,  about  850,000  years  ago. 
But  it  is  now  generally  thought  that  we  have  no  need  to  go  back 
as  far  as  that  for  the  period  of  the  last  glacial  epoch.  200,000 
years  ago  the  focal  distance  was  10,500,000  miles,  and  the  winter 
excess  was  twenty-eight  days.  This,  on  the  supposition  heretofore 
made  of  the  absolute  zero  of  cold  being  at  least  257°  below  the 
freezing-point,  would  lower  the  mean  temperature  in  polar 
regions,  50°  Fahr.,  and  would  unquestionably  extend  the  perma- 
nent ice-limits  far  into  the  temperate  zone.  From  that  time, 
down  to  70,000  years  ago,  the  eccentricity  was  continually  from 
two  to  four  times  greater  than  now.  Since  about  70,000  years 
ago,  it  has  been  nearly  all  the  time  less  than  at  present.  Thus 
it  may  fairly  be  concluded  that  the  great  glacial  period  of  the 
Post-tertiary  era  carne  to  an  end  with  the  fourth  secular  winter 
in  the  past,  or  B.  c.  67,000. 

This  is  a  very  interesting  date  to  us  of  the  genus  homo  /  for 
it  must  have  been  about  this  time,  according  to  all  accounts,  that 
our  forefathers  made  their  appearance  on  the  earth.  Man,  with 
the  long-haired  mammoth,  the  woolly  rhinoceros,  the  huge  cave- 
bear,  the  great-horned  reindeer,  and  numerous  other  species  now 
extinct,  followed  close  upon  the  retreating  ice-fields  of  the 
bowlder  period.  Our  primeval  ancestors  were  a  race  of  hunters, 
and  they  subsisted  on  the  most  abundant  and  magnificent  game 
that  the  world  has  ever  seen.  They  lived  in  caves  or  under  pro- 
jecting ledges,  and  with  only  flint-headed  wreapons  contested 
their  lives  and  homes  with  savage  beasts.  They  cracked  the 
bones  of  animals  for  their  marrow,  or  crushed  them  in  stone 
mortars  for  the  fats  and  the  juices  which  they  contained.  It 
was  the  lingering  carnivorous  instinct  to  gnaw  the  bones  of  their 
prey.  They  .had  fires  at  their  funeral  feasts,  but  there  is  little 
evidence  of  their  indulging  often  in  the  luxury  of  cooked  meats. 
It  was  a  rude  life,  and  a  hard  struggle  they  must  have  had  for  it ; 
but  their  history  is  read  in  the  drift-beds  and  cave-deposits  of 
Europe,  as  plainly  as  if  there  had  been  a  Herodotus  to  write  it. 

The  effect  and  bearing  of  the  great  ice  periods  on  geological 
work  and  time  will  be  further  considered  in  a  second  article  in 
continuation  of  this. 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  31 

II. 

The  element  of  all  others  most  sensitive  to  the  changes  and 
impulses  of  every  kind  of  force  is  the  earth's  atmosphere.  It  is 
in  a  state  of  constant  disturbance,  and  seems  to  be  obedient  to  no 
laws  or  regularity.  Yet,  unstable  as  the  winds  appear,  they  are 
really,  in  their  general  movements,  among  the  most  orderly  and 
effective  agents  in  Nature.  This  is  shown  in  a  remarkable  man- 
ner by  their  agency  in  impelling  the  great  ocean-streams ;  and 
thence  arises  their  important  influence  on  glacial  phenomena.  In 
order  to  make  this  evident,  it  will  be  necessary  to  explain  in  brief 
the  general  laws  of  their  circulation. 

The  earth  turns  on  its  axis  from  west  to  east,  and  with  it  ro- 
tates daily  the  enormous  envelope  of  the  atmosphere.  The  velocity 
of  rotation  at  the  equator  is  something  over  1,000  miles  an  hour; 
at  thirty  degrees  distance  it  is  about  150  miles  an  hour  less.  In 
higher  latitudes  it  is  still  less ;  and  at  the  poles  nothing.  There- 
fore, whenever  the  air  moves  north  or  south  on  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  it  will  carry  with  it  a  less  or  greater  velocity  of  rotation 
than  the  places  it  passes  over,  and  will  turn  into  an  easterly  or 
westerly  wind,  according  as  it  approaches  or  recedes  from  the 
equator.  In  the  region  of  the  sun's  greatest  heat,  the  air,  rare- 
fied and  lightened,  is  continually  rising,  and  cooler  currents  come 
in  on  both  sides  to  take  the  place  of  the  ascending  volume.  As 
these  side-currents  come  from  a  distance  of  about  thirty  degrees 
from  the  equator,  they  have,  at  starting,  an  eastward  velocity 
many  miles  an  hour  less  than  the  localities  they  will  eventually 
reach.  Consequently  they  will  appear  to  lag  behind  in  all  the 
course  of  their  progress  to  the  equator — that  is,  they  will  have  a 
westerly  motion  united  with  their  north  or  south  movements. 
These  are  the  great  trade-winds,  blowing  constantly  from  the 
northeast  on  this  side,  and  the  southeast  on  the  other  side  of  the 
equator. 

But  the  heated  air  which  has  risen  in  immense  volumes  in  the 
tropics,  spreads  out  to  the  north  and  the  south  in  the  upper  re- 
gions, passes  entirely  over  the  trade-winds,  and  comes  down  to 
the  earth  in  the  temperate  zones.  It  however  continues  to  have 


32  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

the  velocity  toward  the  east  which  it  acquired  at  the  equator,  and 
when  it  strikes  the  slower-moving  latitudes,  it  will  be  traveling 
much  faster  than  the  regions  it  comes  down  upon.  Hence  the 
winds  blowing  towards  the  east,  that  prevail  almost  constantly  in 
the  middle  latitudes. 

This  is  the  normal  order  of  the  wind-currents,  and  that  wThich 
would  prevail  with  nearly  perfect  regularity  if  the  world  were 
a  uniform  globe  of  water  or  of  land,  and  equally  heated  on  both 
sides  of  the  equator.  But  the  continents,  and  particularly  moun- 
tain elevations,  produce  great  disturbances,  unequal  rainfalls  and 
ever-varying  atmospheric  pressures.  When  also  from  any  cause, 
one  of  the  trade-winds,  notably  the  southern,  is  increased  in  its 
violence  so  as  to  push  a  tornado  tongue  across  the  dividing  line 
into  the  opposite  system  of  winds,  there  is  started  one  of  those 
cyclones,  or  great  circular  storms,  which  ravage  the  tropics  and 
whirl  through  the  temperate  zones,  finally  exhausting  themselves 
in  the  higher  latitudes  to  the  eastward. 

The  southern  hemisphere  is  at  the  present  time  colder  than  the 
northern,  owing  primarily  to  the  fact  that  the  winters  there  are 
eight  days  longer  than  the  northern,  and  the  sun,  during  those 
seasons,  about  3,000,000  miles  further  from  the  earth  than  during 
the  northern  winters.  The  difference  of  temperature  therefore 
between  the  warm  air  that  rises  at  the  equator  and  the  cold  air 
that  comes  in  from  the  south,  is  greater  than  that  on  the  north 
side.  And  as  it  is  difference  of  temperature  that  produces  the 
whole  movement  of  the  air-currents,  of  course  the  greater 
strength  of  that  movement  must  be  on  the  southern  side.  Hence 
the  larger  share  of  the  equatorial  current  passes  over  to  the  south, 
and  the  southern  trades  are  much  the  strongest.  In  accordance 
with  this  theory  it  is  a  matter  of  observation  that  the  southern 
trade-winds  reach  across  the  equator  and  into  the  northern  hem- 
isphere in  some  places  ten  to  fifteen  degrees. 

In  obedience  to  and  perfect  accord  with  this  great  system  of 
winds,  the  waters  of  the  oceans  move.  The  strong  southeast 
trades  blow  up  from  Southern  Africa,  cross  the  equator,  and 
drive  the  waters  of  the  South  Atlantic  into  the  Caribbean  Sea. 
The  lighter  northeast  trades,  blowing  between  North  Africa  and 


N 


*•? 

<  M. 


THE    POLAR   GLACIERS.  33 

the  West  Indies,  assist  and  give  direction  to  this  movement,  which 
finally  impels  through  the  Straits  of  Florida  a  tide  of  tropical 
waters  a  hundred  times  greater  than  the  outflow  of  all  the  rivers 
in  the  world.  This  great  flood  of  thermal  waters  spreads  out  in 
the  Northern  Atlantic,  imparting  to  Europe  a  climate  correspond- 
ing to  countries  twenty  degrees  south  of  it  on  this  side  of  the 
ocean.  There  is  of  course  an  under-current  from  the  arctics  to  the 
the  equator,  exactly  compensating  this  enormous  northward  flow 
of  the  surface-waters.  The  same  process  and  effect  are  repeated 
in  the  Pacific  Ocean ;  and  the  great  Japan  Stream  robs  the  south- 
ern hemisphere  for  the  benefit  of  our  Pacific  States,  only  in  a 
degree  less  than  does  the  Gulf  Stream  for  the  benefit  of  Europe. 

A  change  in  the  relative  strength  of  the  trade-winds,  such  that 
the  northeast  trades  would  blow  across  the  equator  into  the  south- 
ern hemisphere,  would  entirely  reverse  the  course  of  the  warm 
ocean-currents,  and  carry  to  the  southern  continents  the  heat  ab- 
stracted from  the  northern.  Such  a  change  in  the  course  of 
ocean-streams  has  unquestionably  followed  every  change  in  the 
glaciation  of  the  hemispheres  from  astronomical  causes.  The 
winds  and  the  water-currents  have  always  helped  to  increase  the 
difference  in  temperature  which  a  considerable  eccentricity  of  the 
earth's  orbit  must  always  have  produced  between  the  northern 
and  southern  halves  of  our  globe.  It  matters  but  little  which  of 
the  two — the  ocean-currents  or  the  astronomical  causes — have 
produced  the  greater  effect,  since  it  is  certain  that  they  have  ever 
cooperated  in  one  and  the  same  direction. 

On  all  the  tropical  seas,  between  the  terminal  lines  of  the  two 
trade-winds,  there  is  what  is  called  the  belt  of  calms,  a  tract  aver- 
aging from  300  to  500  miles  wide,  in  which  whatever  winds  there 
may  be  are  exceedingly  light  and  unreliable.  It  is  here$  as  we 
have  seen,  that  the  air  and  vapor,  heated  by  the  vertical  rays  of 
the  sun,  are  continually  rising  and  spreading  outward  in  the 
upper  regions.  It  is  a  complete  dividing  line  between  the  cli- 
mates of  the  two  hemispheres.  One  may  be  frigidly  cold,  while 
the  other  is  highly  heated ;  the  only  difference  being  that  the 
calm  belt  would  be  removed  further  into  the  warmer  hemisphere. 
It  now  ranges  from  ftve  to  ten  degrees  of  latitude  on  this  side  of 


34  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

the  equator.  In  this  belt  of  ascending  air-currents  is  carried  up 
the  greater  part  of  the  moisture  which  afterwards  descends  as  rain 
or  snow  far  from  the  equator.  Whatever  excess  of  solar  heat 
there  may  be  in  the  tropics  is  here  absorbed  in  evaporating  water. 
To  vaporize  a  pound  of  water,  according  to  Prof.  Tyndall,  re- 
quires as  much  heat  as  to  raise  fifty-five  pounds  of  ice-water  to 
the  boiling-point.  It  is  manifest,  therefore,  that  there  must  have 
been,  during  the  glacial  periods,  an  enormous  amount  of  sun- 
power  somewhere  on  the  face  of  the  earth  to  have  supplied  the 
vapor  that  buried  one  zone  and  half  of  another  beneath  a  solid 
ocean  of  ice. 

These  facts  effectually  do  away  with  all  the  theories,  except 
the  astronomical,  which  have  been  advanced  by  physicists  to 
account  for  glacial  phenomena ;  one,  that  our  solar  system  has, 
during  certain  ages,  passed  through  a  colder  region  of  space ; 
another,  that  the  sun  in  glacial  times  for  some  cause  failed  to 
supply  his  usual  quantity  of  heat;  and,  as  a  consequence  of 
either,  that  the  glaciation  of  both  hemispheres  occured  at  the 
the  same  time.  Equatorial  heat  is  as  necessary  to  a  glacial  period 
as  polar  cold.  The  one  transforms  the  waters  to  vapor,  and  ele- 
vates it  to  the  cloud-spheres,  wdiile  the  other  sends  in  the  cold 
winds  beneath,  which  compel  the  vapors  to  come  over  to  the 
frozen  side  and  build  up  the  glacier. 

The  system  of  the  stratified  rocks  has  been  called  the  great 
geological  book,  with  its  uncounted  leaves  overlying  each  other. 
Now  as  it  is  a  part  of  the  glacial  theory  that  each  of  these  leaves 
or  strata,  at  least  in  greater  part,  was  the  work  of  a  glacial  period, 
it  is  important  for  us  to  examine  closely  and  particularly  the 
course  and  effect  of  one  of  these  great  cycles  of  about  21,000 
years.  We  will  take  for  example,  that  one  of  the  Post-tertiary 
glacial  which  was  of  the  greatest  extent  and  severity.  Ten 
cycles  back,  about  210,000  years  ago,  one  of  the  periods  of 
maximum  eccentricity  had  just  commenced,  the  highest  since 
four  times  that  number  of  years.  The  perigee,  or  nearest  ap- 
proach to  the  sun,  happened  then  as  now,  a  few  days  after  the 

winter  solstice  of  our  half  of  the  world.    It  was  the  great  summer 

o 

of  the  northern  hemisphere.     But  over  the  southern  hemisphere 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  35 

at  this  time,  almost  if  not  quite  to  the  tropics,  extended  one  vast 
sheet  of  ice.  It  reached  far  into  Brazil,  it  covered  Southern 
Africa  and  lapped  over  on  Australia.  The  marks  are  all  there, 
scored  on  the  solid  rocks,  to  show  how  it  crept  up  the  southern 
slopes  of  the  hills,  and  how  far  it  pushed  its  icy  arms.  In  South 
America  at  least,  there  is  ample  proof  that  the  great  glacier 
spanned  the  southern  ocean  to  reach  it ;  for  the  furrows  on  the 
rock-beds  of  Patagonia  are  from  the  pole  toward  the  equator, 
whereas  in  any  other  case  they  would  have  been  from  the  moun- 
tains to  the  sea.  With  such  a  state  of  things  at  the  southern  end 
of  the  world,  with  probably  miles  in  depth  of  ice  and  sea  in  its 
higher  latitudes,  there  could  have  been  but  little  water  left  for 
the  opposite  northern  regions.  What  is  called  the  Atlantic-cable 
plateau,  between  Newfoundland  and  Ireland,  was  very  possibly 
the  north  shore  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean ;  and  probably  no  consid- 
erable bodies  of  water  existed  anywhere  north  of  that  parallel. 
The  present  continents  were  all  mountain  table-lands,  far  from 
the  vicinity  of  evaporating  surfaces.  Like  all  such  elevated 
regions,  not  exposed  to  specially  moist  winds,  they  were  doubtless 
dry  and  arid  deserts.  However  warm  may  have  been  the  climate 
of  the  north  temperate  and  arctic  zones  during  this  their  great 
summer,  their  great  elevation  and  the  want  of  any  kind  of  water- 
supply  must  have  made  them  barren  of  all  forms  of  animal  or 
vegetable  life.  Consequently  there  would  be,  as  is  notably  the 
case,  but  few  if  any  traces  of  this  part  of  the  great  season  left 
in  the  geological  records,  at  least  above  the  present  seas. 

Five  thousand  years  pass,  and  the  perigee  has  advanced  to 
meet  the  vernal  equinox.  The  spring  season  is  now  the  shortest 
of  all ;  but  as  the  autumnal  is  correspondingly  lengthened,  the 
average  climate  is  about  that  of  the  present  time.  But  it  is  the 
season  of  the  great  thaw — the  breaking-up  time — of  the  southern 
hemisphere,  and  the  waters  are  returning  to  fill  the  northern 
ocean-beds.  Imperceptibly  a  permanent  white  cap  begins  to 
fasten  itself  to  the  heights  of  the  boreal  zone,  to  extend  its  out- 
line, and  to  increase  its  depth.  Slowly  the  lands  are  being  sub 
merged  and  the  oceans  broaden  out,  till  there  comes  a. time  when 
land  and  water  are  equalized  in  the  two  hemispheres,  and  the 
climates  are  substantially  alike. 


36  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

Another  5,000  years  pass,  and  the  perigee  now  coincides  with 
the  summer  solstice  of  the  northern  hemisphere.  This  is  the 
position  there  of  greatest  cold ;  the  winters  are  twenty-eight 
days  longer  than  the  summers ;  and  the  extra  days  are  in  great 
part  those  of  the  briefest  sunshine.  Besides  this,  the  earth  is 
10,500,000  miles  further  from  the  sun  in  winter  than  in  summer. 
According  to  the  most  careful  calculations,  the  temperature  of 
extreme  northern  regions  would  be  lowered  50°,  and  the  mean 
annual  range  would  be  fully  60°  below  zero.  This  in  all  proba- 
bility would  carry  the  isothermal  line  of  Labrador,  South  Green- 
land, and  Iceland  (32°  Falir.),  down  to  Charleston  and  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico.  The  late  Prof.  Agassiz  found  ice-marks  as  far  south  as 
this,  though  it  can  hardly  be  supposed  that  the  permanent  glacier 
extended  so  far.  There  are  however  abundant  signs  of  the 
permanent  ice-layer  all  over  the  State  of  New  York,  and  both 
east  and  west  of  it.  The  same  distinguished  authority  was  wont 
to  claim  in  his  lectures  that  all  the  beautiful  north  and  south 
lakes  of  Western  New  York — the  Cayuga,  the  Seneca,  the  Can- 
andaigua — were  ploughed  out  of  the  solid  rock  and  walled  around 
with  their  clay  and  gravel  hills,  by  advancing  and  retreating 
glaciers.  The  rocky  summits  of  New  England  are  found  to  be 
grooved  and  scored  all  over  their  sides  and  tops  with  markings 
always  in  nearly  a  north  and  south  direction.  They  have  been 
traced  on  Mount  Washington  to  within  300  feet  of  the  highest 
point.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  at  the  time  we  are  writing 
of,  about  200,000  years  ago,  there  was  one  solid  ice-stratum  of 
immense  thickness — Agassiz  said  from  two  to  three  miles — slowly 
being  pushed  from  the  northward  by  the  power  of  freezing 
water,  over  all  of  New  England  and  the  Lake  States. 

Again  the  perigee  proceeds  to  meet  the  autumnal  equinox. 
The  winter  and  the  summer  seasons  have  again  become  equal  in 
length ;  and  the  sun  is  just  half  its  time  on  the  north  side  of  the 
equator.  The  great  ice-shroud  is  now  being  gradually  withdrawn. 
Where  it  abuts  on  deep  waters,  enormous  icebergs  are  broken  off 
and  float  away  to  the  south,  carrying  bowlders  and  soil  and  what- 
ever it  may  have  picked  up  in  its  slow  course  down  to  the  sea. 
Where  it  terminates  in  shallow  waters  or  on  the  land,  its  effect  is 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  37 

to  produce  such  an  arrangement  and  diversity  of  soils  and  such 
a  peculiar  outline  of  country  as  no  other  agency  could  ever  have 
brought  about.  So  different  is  the  nature  and  work  of  the  great 
polar  glacier  from  anything  with  which  we  are  familiar  at  the 
present  day,  that  it  has  seemed  to  me  to  require  a  few  words  of 
more  particular  description. 

As  is  well  known,  the  glacier  is  an  accumulation  of  many  win- 
ters' snows,  consolidated  by  pressure  into  a  clear  blue  ice.  In  this 
condition  it  manifests  the  peculiar  property  of  viscous  bodies — 
it  is  in  continual  slow  motion  in  the  direction  of  least  resistance. 
Whether  it  is  by  the  expansion  produced  by  the  repeated  thaw- 
ing and  freezing  of  water  in  its  interstices,  as  Agassiz  claimed,  or 
whether  by  the  pressure  of  the  mass  and  glacial  regelation,  which 
is  the  constant  freezing  together  of  ice-surfaces  in  contact,  after 
breaking  under  unequal  pressures,  or  crushing  against  obstacles, 
which  is  the  theory  of  Prof.  Tyndall,  or  whether  by  both  causes 
combined,  certain  it  is  that  large  bodies  of  ice  not  only  flow  like 
a  heavy  lava-stream,  conforming  themselves  to  all  inequalities  of 
the  surface,  but  they  also  scrape  along  in  solid  mass,  as  if  pushed 
by  some  irresistible  force  from  behind.  Mountain-glaciers  show 
both  motions.  But  the  great  polar  glacier,  extending  over  com- 
paratively level  surfaces,  seems  to  have  been  pushed  bodily  out- 
ward from  its  fixed  polar  base,  and  to  have  moved  almost  entirely 
under  the  mighty  impulse  of  expansion.  The  parallel  scratches 
and  furrows  which,  in  our  hemisphere,  mount  straight  up  the 
north  sides  of  mountains;  the  worn  and  rounded  appearance  of 
those  sides  and  of  the  summits,  as  compared  with  the  rough,  un- 
smoothed  southern  slopes ;  the  erratic  blocks,  or  some  peculiar 
specimens  like  the  native  copper  of  Lake  Superior,  carried  almost 
directly  south  for  scores  or  hundreds  of  miles,  over  heights,  and 
even  over  arms  of  the  sea — all  show  conclusively  that  the  great 
glacier  pushed  its  meridional  course  over  all  obstacles  and  to  long 
distances. 

Imbedding  in  its  under  surface  the  grit  and  gravel  on  which  it 
froze,  the  mountain  grindstone  grated  and  ground  the  solid  rocks 
over  which  it  passed  into  the  various  materials  of  soil.  Sand  and 
gravel  were  the  products  from  granitic  rocks  and  sandstones,  clay 


38  THE   POLAK    GLACIERS. 

from  the  slates  arid  shales,  and  loam  from  the  softer  lime-rocks. 
But  the  most  striking  effects  which  the  polar  glacier  produced 
were  the  long  ridges  of  gravel  and  bowlder-cla}^  hills  which  it 
scraped  up  as  it  advanced,  and  left  at  the  end  of  its  journey,  or 
at  each  halting-place  of  its  retreat.  For  it  must  be  borne  in  mind 
that  the  glacier  was  still  pushing  southward  all  the  time  that  it 
was,  on  the  whole,  retreating.  These  terminal  moraines  are 
either  the  promiscuous  gatherings  of  clay  and  bowlders  and 
earths  of  all  kinds,  or,  if  they  have  been  subjected  to  the  sorting 
influence  of  moving  waters,  they  are  gravel  hills  with  sandy 
bases,  and  clay  flats  extending  usually  to  the  southward  of  them. 
They  run  in  somewhat  parallel  courses  easterly  and  westerly, 
sometimes  hundreds  of  miles.  Great  numbers  of  these  concen- 
tric ridges  may  be  counted  in  Western  New  York,  between  the 
long  Lake  Ontario  ridge  and  the  lake  hills  of  the  south  part  of 
the  State.  Several  cross  the  New  England  States,  one  running 
along  the  coast  of  Maine,  and  westerly  through  the  White 
Mountains.  In  addition  to  these  are  the  lateral  moraines,  run- 
ning, in  an  opposite  direction.  These  were,  some  of  them,  pushed 
out  at  the  sides  by  outstretching  arms  of  the  glacier ;  others  were 
formed  by  streams  running  down  through  breaks  or  fiords  in  the 
melting  ice-sheet.  So  extensive  and  so  marked  are  the  traces  of 
the  great  polar  glacier  over  all  middle  latitudes  both  north  and 
south,  that  it  may  truly  be  called  the  great  landscape-gardener  of 
the  temperate  zones. 

JBut  it  is  natural  to  conclude  that,  if  there  has  been  one  glacial 
era  caused  by  astronomical  cycles,  there  must  also  have  been 
others  in  earlier  geological  times.  And,  as  we  turn  back  the 
pages  of  the  great  earth-book,  we  find  therein  recorded  the  evi- 
dences of  the  vicissitudes  of  climate  which  we  thus  anticipate; 
but,  if  we  mistake  not,  in  continually  lessening  force  and  extent 
the  further  back  we  go.  For  long  ages  previous  to  the  recent 
glacial  epoch,  through  all  the  Tertiary  era,  the  fossil  plants  and 
animals  indicate  the  prevalence  of  a  warm  and  genial  climate 
over  the  greater  part  of  the  globe.  Then  come  the  chalk-beds 
of  the  Cretaceous  period,  in  which  are  frequently  found  water- 
worn  blocks  of  granite  and  aggregations  of  pebbles,  proving  that 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  39 

then,  as  now,  the  ice-berg  floated  down  from  the  north  over  seas 
that  were  quietly  depositing  the  chalk-shells.  Still  older,  is  found 
a  long  series  of  secondary  strata,  the  Oolite,  the  Lias,  and  the 
Trias,  which  were  deposited  in  at  least  sub-tropical  climates. 
They  are  the  burial-grounds  of  the  enormous  saurian  reptiles 
that  once  had  an  age  all  to  themselves  in  the  world's  chronology. 
Their  remains  have  been  found  within  a  thousand  miles  of  the 
north-pole,  thus  proving  that  warm  seas  covered  every  zone. 

Between  the  great  divisions  of  Secondary  and  Primary  in 
geology,  there  lies  a  stratum  found  only  in  the  higher  half  of 
the  latitudes,  and  known  as  the  Permian  or  New  Red  Sandstone. 
The  scanty  life-forms  found  in  it,  and  the  coarse  grit  and  angular 
bowlders  of  wThich  it  is  composed,  evince  the  well-known  glacial 
action.  Geologists  generally  think  that  there  elapsed  between 
these  great  divisions  a  very  long  period  of  time  in  which,  except- 
ing this  sandstone,  but  little  was  done  one  way  or  another  to 
build  up  the  crust  of  the  earth,  or  to  leave  a  mark  in  its  records. 
This  doubtless  indicates  periods  of  very  small  eccentricity. 
Such  periods  did  occur,  according  to  Mr.  Croll's  calculations, 
immediately  before  and  after  the  great  eccentricity  of  850,000 
years  ago,  in  which  we  may  perhaps  conjecture  the  New  Red 
Sandstone  to  have  been  formed. 

Previous  to  this  age  were  the  long  Carboniferous  periods,  dur- 
ing all  of  which  a  warm  and  moist  climate  prevailed  over  all 
lands  that  have  yet  been  explored.  Below  the  coal-measures  are 
found  again  the  grits  and  bowldery  conglomerates  of  the  Old 
Red  Sandstone,  which,  with  the  great  paucity  of  organic  remains, 
would  imply  the  alternations  of  somewhat  glacial  climates.  The 
Silurian,  Cambrian,  and  Laurentian  systems  preceded  the  Old 
Red  in  the  order  named,  and  reach  back  to  the  dawn  of  life  on 
the  earth.  These  formations  are  of  vast  thickness,  and  were  de- 
posited at  the  bottom  of  warm  seas  in  all  parts  of  the  world. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that,  as  we  go  back  in  the  geologic  records, 
we  find  more  and  more  the  evidences  of  greater  heat  and  a  more 
equable  climate.  It  is  certain  that  the  astronomical  relations 
which  we  have  pointed  out — the  revolutions  of  the  orbital  points 
and  the  alternations  of  great  and  small  eccentricity — have  never 


40  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

ceased  to  exist.  Therefore,  if  the  world  had  been  subjected  to 
only  the  same  solar  heat  in  ancient  as  in  recent  periods,  there 
must  have  been  repeated  glacial  epochs ;  and  we  should  find  the 
bowlder,  and  the  unsorted  drift,  and  the  scratched  and  polished 
rocks,  all  through  the  stone  presentations.  But  very  few,  if  any, 
such  evidences  have  been  found. 

Again,  for  a  warm  and  exuberant  climate  to  extend  into  the 
arctic  zone,  there  was  necessary  one  of  those  great  summers  of 
considerable  eccentricity,  without  the  excessive  drainage  which 
an  unusually  large  accumulation  of  ice  in  the  opposite  hemisphere 
would  necessitate.  Each  summer  cycle  of  coal  forests,  or  of 
reptile  monsters,  implies,  not  only  a  long  visit  and  a  high  evap- 
orating power  of  the  sun,  but  also  the  addition  to  the  opposite 
polar  regions,  of  a  weight  of  ice  only  sufficient  to  draw  the 
waters  from  a  small  part  of  the  low  and  flat  lands  of  the  warmer 
hemisphere.  We  have  seen  that  periods  of  warm,  perhaps  even  of 
tropical  climates  in  polar  latitudes,  intervened  between  the  great 
winters  of  the  last  glacial  epoch.  But  they  have  left  scarcely  a 
trace  in  the  strata.  They  were  the  nearest  approach  possible, 
with  the  sun-power  of  recent  times,  to  the  conditions  which  of 
old  brought  out  such  a  profusion  of  animal  and  vegetable  life. 
But  the  only  result  in  the  later  periods  was,  that  the  earth  was 
unbalanced ;  all  the  waters  were  either  turned  into  ice,  or  were 
following  after  it  toward  one  of  the  poles;  one  side  of  the 
world  was  a  frozen  waste,  while  the  other  was  a  burning  waste. 

I  think  we  cannot  avoid  the  conclusion  that  the  sun  shone 
with  a  far  intenser  power  on  the  Carboniferous  swamps  and  the 
Oolitic  shoals  than  on  the  gravel-hills  of  the  Drift;  that  the 
oceans  of  early  times  were  wider  and  warmer  than  now,  and  cir- 
culated more  freely  between  the  tropics  and  the  polar  seas ;  and 
that  the  heated  and  moisture-laden  atmosphere  retained  the  heat 
and  equalized  the  temperature  between  the  equator  and  the  poles 
far  more  than  at  present. 

With  these  conditions,  that  is,  with  a  greater  sun-power  and  a 
considerable  eccentricity  of  the  earth's  orbit,  I  can  conceive  of  a 
rational  explanation,  that  which  I  have  not  yet  seen  in  the  books, 
of  the  formation  of  the  coal-layers,  alternated  as  they  always  are 


THE    POLAR    GLACIERS.  -il 

with  marine  deposits.  These  alternations  are  sometimes  very 
numerous.  There  are  as  many  as  sixty  distinct  veins  of  consider- 
able thickness,  one  over  another,  in  the  coal-mines  of  South 
Wales,  as  also  of  Nova  Scotia.  There  must  have  been,  in  that  case, 
sixty  periods  of  dry  land,  each  of  sufficient  duration  to  grow 
many  forests,  and  each  followed  by  a  long-continued  submergence, 
in  order  that  each  layer  should  become  fossilized,  and  buried  be- 
neath a  shale  or  a  limestone,  which  could  only  have  formed  in 
the  depths  of  a  quiet  sea.  The  books  say  there  were  so  many 
upheavals,  and  a  like  number  of  subsidences,  alternating  with 
each  other.  As  if  Old  Earth  had  bent  her  back,  for  her  load  of 
pit-coal,  three-score  times  among  the  Welsh  hills,  and  again  as 
many  more  at  Halifax.  It  is  a  far  more  reasonable  explanation, 
that  each  considerable  layer  of  coal  indicates  a  cycle  of  long  sum- 
mers, and  the  withdrawal  of  a  moderate  depth  of  the  oceans 
from  one  hemisphere  to  the  other,  by  reason  of  moderate  accumu- 
lations of  ice  in  polar  latitudes,  arid  the  return  again  of  the 
waters  after  10,500  years.  In  this  way,  and  in  no  other  that  I 
can  conceive  of,  can  be  fairly  explained  the  constant  mixture  and 
alternations  of  terrestrial  and  marine  relics,  all  through  the  fossil- 
bearing  formations,  and  the  hundreds,  if  not  thousands  of  differ- 
ent and  distinct  strata  which  are  found  lying  one  above  another. 
Whoever,  even  cursorily,  studies  the  phenomena  of  geology, 
must  be  impressed  with  the  enormous  length  of  time  it  has  taken 
to  arrange  the  terrestrial  substructure,  and  prepare  it  for  the 
higher  forms  of  life.  Even  the  comparatively  recent  period  of 
the  Bowlder  Clay,  which  laid  out  the  grounds  of  the  present  area 
of  civilization,  dates  back  for  its  commencement,  as  we  have  seen, 
probably  200,000  years.  If  it  might  be  assumed  that  the  Per- 
mian or  New  Red  Sandstone  was  formed  during  the  next  previous 
period  of  extraordinary  eccentricity,  which  was  850,000  years 
ago,  then  the  Devonian  or  Old  Red  Sandstone  would  come  in, 
very  appropriately,  at  the  next  anterior  era  of  extraordinary  focal 
distance,  which  occurred  2,500,000  years  back.  The  Carbonifer- 
ous period,  which  came  between  these  two,  could  not  have  been 
formed  in  less  than  1,000,000  years,  as  most  geologists  concede ; 
and  by  calculations  previously  indicated,  those  sixty  Welsh  layers 


42  THE    POLAR    GLACIERS. 

of  coal,  if  there  are  that  many  divided  off  by  marine  deposits 
of  considerable  thickness,  would  have  consumed  1,250,000  years. 
The  average  thickness  of  all  the  strata  that  lie  above  the  Old 
Red  Sandstone  is  not  far  from  two  miles.  But  this  formation  is 
itself,  in  many  places,  two  miles  thick.  And  the  lower  Primary 
systems  will  add  at  least  ten  miles  to  the  vertical  measure  of  the 
fossil-bearing  rocks.  It  is  estimated  that  "  the  f ossilif erous  beds 
in  Great  Britain,  as  a  whole,  are  more  than  70,000  feet  in  thick- 
ness;" and  many  that  are  there  wanting,  or  nearly  so,  elsewhere 
expand  into  beds  of  immense  depth.  There  are  certainly  fifteen 
miles  deep  of  strata  to  be  accounted  for — the  slow  accretions  of 
the  ages — mainly  ocean-sediment  that  has  come  down  from  the 
wear  and  washings  of  the  solid  rocks.  It  would  be  by  no  means 
a  bold  assumption  to  say  that  20,000,000  years  had  elapsed  since 
the  eozoon  first  built  its  reefs  in  the  warm  Laurentian  seas. 


UNIVERSITIES  vs.  SCIENCE ; 

Or,   Shall  Science  be  Excommunicated  ?  * 


In  the  good  old  times  when  the  Church  had  her  own  way,  if 
any  one  proved  refractory,  he  was  threatened  with  excommunica- 
tion, and  he  immediately  came  to  his  orthodoxy.  This  is  what 
made  old  Galileo  get  down  on  his  knees  and  renounce  his  heresies, 
and  it  kept  back  many  a  book  of  premature  science  from  seeing 
the  light  of  the  early  centuries.  But  after  the  great  Protestant 
Reformation,  and  the  loss  of  the  hold  which  the  Church  had  on 
the  literature  of  the  times,  Christendom  was  inundated  with 
books  of  men's  wisdom,  and  strange  doctrines  which  served  only 
to  unsettle  the  minds  of  the  faithful. 

It  may  be  too  late  now  to  arraign  science  in  this  highly 
satisfactory  manner,  but  we  can  at  least  show  up  some  of  the 
mischief  it  is  working,  and,  for  educational  purposes,  confine  it 
to  expurgated  and  approved  editions  of  school  books.  With 
this  view,  I  propose  to  follow  up  some  of  the  most  recent 
advances  of  scientific  thought,  as  it  is  called,  and  to  let  all  see 
where  they  inevitably  land  us. 

Ever  since  the  time  of  Luther  and  Calvin,  the  advocates  of 
Christianity  have  been  constantly  engaged  in  contesting,  and 
finally  conceding,  the  claims  of  scientific  investigators.  The 
common-sense  interpretation  of  those  sublime  verses  in  Genesis 
which  tell  the  simple  story  of  Creation,  has  had  to  be,  in  repeated 
instances,  distorted  and  stultified  to  accommodate  itself  to  the 
slow  and  toilsome  processes  of  evolution. 

* 'Written  a  few  years  since,  on  the  occasion  of  the  removal  of  Prof.  Win- 
chell  from  the  Lectureship  of  Vanderbilt  University,  on  account  of  scientific 
heterodox  opinions. 


44:  UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE. 

As  long  as  the  contest  was  over  the  Old  Testament  account  of 
the  Creations,  it  would  not  seem  to  matter  much  whether  the 
Church  gained  or  lost  in  the  controversy ;  for  the  truth  of  the 
Christian  religion  is  not  necessarily  dependent  upon  either  the 
cosmogony  or  the  theocracy  of  Moses.  The  religion  of  the  New 
Testament  was  a  great  and  radical  reform  of  the  straight  and 
highly  anthropomorphic  monotheism  of  the  Hebrews.  After 
this  great  Reformation  was  once  established,  it  was  no  more  im- 
portant to  it  that  the  writings  of  the  Mosaic  priesthood  should 
be  retained,  than  it  was  to  the  reformed  Protestantism  of  the 
sixteenth  century  that  the  bulls  and  encyclicals  of  the  Popes 
should  be  longer  regarded.  In  fact  it  is  very  much  of  a  question 
whether  the  Christian  cause  has  not  lost  rather  than  gained  by 
incorporating  the  books  of  Jewish  Mythology  and  Ritual  among 
its  sacred  Scriptures. 

In  the  first  place  the  New  Religion  gave  up  at  once  the  very 
primitive  and  human  conception  of  God  which  was  held  by  the 
Hebrews,  as  one  coming  down  and  talking  with  men,  doing 
their  battles  and  making  laws  for  them,  as  one  contesting  his 
place  with  the  gods  of  other  nations,  and  governed  by  like  passions 
as  we  ourselves.  Again,  the  Christian  religion  first  brought  out 
the  doctrine  of  future  rewards  and  punishment,  and  the  great 
theological  tenet  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  St.  Paul  says, 
"  Christ  came  to  bring  life  arid  immortality  to  light."  Surely 
this  is  an  entirely  different  religion  from  the  Unitarian  theocracy 
of  the  Jews  ;  and  we  cannot  see  how  its  eternal  truth  can  be 
affected  one  wray  or  another,  though  the  beautiful  verses  of  Gen- 
esis be  shown  to  be  figurative  or  fabulous,  though  neither  the 
earth  nor  the  sun  is  the  center  of  the  universe,  though  the  world 
was  created  neither  in  six  days  nor  in  any  periods  whatever, 
and  though  neither  Adam  nor  any  portion  of  the  human  race 
was  ever  started  off  at  once  in  the  full  tide  of  civilization  and 
enlightenment. 

But  science  does  not  stop  when  it  would  seem  to  have  worsted 
the  Hydra  of  ancient  fable.  It  is  every  day  putting  forward 
bolder  and  more  far-reaching  claims,  and  it  is  now  perhaps  be- 
coming a  serious  and  important  question  whether  some  of  the 


UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE.  45 

recent  theories  and  discoveries  of  our  scientific  friends  are  not 
striking  at  the  root  of  Christian  theology  as  developed  ont  of 
the  New  Testament — whether  the  time  has  not  really  come 
when  Christian  institutions  of  learning  should  discriminate 
against  professors  who  teach  or  who  meddle  with  these  advanced 
theories  of  science. 

I  approach  the  further  elucidation  of  these  theories  with  great 
hesitation,  because  some  may  think  they  are  subjects  which  should 
not  be  written  upon.  But  how  can  we  fight  an  enemy  in  the 
dark  ?  How  shall  we  know  what  to  beware  of,  unless  we  expose 
it  to  the  light  ?  I  therefore  plunge  "  in  medias  res." 

Late  developments  in  what  is  called  the  kinetic  theory  go  to  show 
that  all  the  forces  in  nature  are  only  different  modes  of  motion— 
transmutable  one  into  another,  but  still  motion  and  nothing 
but  motion.  If  then  all  force  is  motion,  and  there  can  be  no 
motion  without  something  to  move,  the  forces  cannot  exist 
except  in  connection  with  some  form  of  matter.  There  is,  and 
there  can  be,  no  impulse  nor  life  nor  manifestation,  in  the  world 
or  out  of  it,  except  through  material  substances.  Under  such  a 
state  of  things,  one  can  hardly  understand  how  the  spirit  of  man, 
which  is  certainly  a  force  in  his  natural  body,  can  exist  separate 
from  that  body. 

The  life  force  of  all  the  animal  creation  is  a  transmutation 
from  chemical  force,  the  materials  for  which  are  constantly  sup- 
plied through  the  food  we  eat  and  the  air  we  breathe.  The 
moment  the  supply  gives  out,  the  life  force  ceases  and  the  body 
becomes  other  kinds  of  matter,  in  most  cases  the  food  and  sub- 
stance of  other  animals.  By  far  the  greater  part  of  all  organic 
matter,  the  human  organism  included,  passes  the  round  of  vege- 
table and  animal  existence  time  and  time  again.  Therefore  the 
body,  once  dead  and  eaten  up  and  passed  on  to  another  generation 
of  animated  beings,  can  never  be  gathered  together  and  animated 
over  again.  The  resurrection  of  our  bodies  then  would  seem  to 
be  a  physical  impossibility,  and  under  the  kinetic  theory  there 
can  be  no  spirits  without  corporeal  bodies. 

If  we  still  maintain,  as  the  most  of  us  certainly  will,  that  the 
soul  of  man  is  some  mysterious  entity  independent  of  natural 


46  UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE. 

laws,  and  after  the  death  of  the  body  will  animate  forever  some 
kind  of  an  etherial  form,  we  naturally  inquire,  where  will  be 
the  habitation  of  such  existences?  We  turn  to  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures and  we  find  the  abodes  of  the  blessed,  the  Christian's 
Heaven,  described  as  in  the  upper  sky,  above  the  earth,  outside 
of  all  its  commotions,  in  regions  of  eternal  day,  where  there  is 
no  night  and  the  sun  forever  shines.  "Where  else  can  this  be 
than  in  the  outlying  regions  of  space?  Now  the  scientists  have 
lately  been  telling  us  that  the  temperature  of  the  inter-planetary 
spaces  is  somewhere  about  250°  below  zero,  and  that  they  are 
filled  with  shooting  stars  and  meteors  and  fragments  of  iron,  fly- 
ing about  in  all  directions  with  amazing  velocities.  Now  this 
would  not  seem  to  be  a  very  serene  and  tranquil  location  for  the 
reunion  of  the  saints. 

The  soul  quits  the  natural  body  if  its  temperature  is  reduced 
to  near  the  freezing  point,  which  is  32°  above  zero.  We  can 
hardly  suppose  it  would  leave  one  body  just  because  it  was 
slightly  reduced  in  temperature,  and  forthwith  take  up  with  an- 
other that  had  not  the  least  last  shiver  of  heat  in  it. 

Again,  the  place  for  the  eternal  punishment  of  unbelievers  is 
represented  to  be  in  lakes  of  fire  beneath  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  and  we  have  always  supposed  there  was  no  lack  of  that 
fluid  in  the  bowels  of  our  planet.  But  now  comes  forward  the 
great  geologist,  LeConte,  and  tells  us  that  the  earth  is  solid  from 
center  to  circumferance,  that  even  the  volcanoes  are  only  so 
many  chemical  retorts  that  are  emptied  as  fast  as  filled.  He  has 
effectually  forestalled  the  arguments  of  the  Beechers,  for  there 
is  now  no  longer  a  place  for  Hell. 

But  by  far  the  most  serious  inroads  yet  made  in  the  Christian 
intrenchments  come  from  the  Darwinian  hypothesis,  or  that  of 
the  slow  and  gradual  development  of  the  human  from  the  lower 
races  of  animals.  We  will  present  the  main  points  of  this 
theory  as  fairly  as  we  can,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  what  infer- 
ences come  with  it.  There  can  be  no  greater  argument  for 
development  than  the  actual  tracing  or  following  of  that  devel- 
opment from  either  end  to  the  other.  We  will  attempt  this  kind 
of  a  showing,  and  will  take  for  our  example  the  nations  of 


UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE.  47 

northern  Europe,  which  now  stand  at  the  head  of  the  world's 
advancement. 

The  native  races  of  these  countries  can  be  followed  back  by 
authentic  history  through  all  the  stages  of  civilization,  feudalism, 
and  barbarism,  to  the  time  when  Julius  Caesar  invaded  the  great 
Northland,  and  was  everywhere  met  by  hordes  of  fierce,  half- 
naked  and  painted  savages.  Here  we  leave  written  history  and 
follow  up  the  abundant  remains  and  traces  which  the  prehistoric 
tribes  have  left  of  themselves  throughout  Europe. 

First,  we  come  to  the  builders  of  the  mounds  and  tumuli 
scattered  over  all  these  countries,  and  containing  the  bones  and 
the  implements  of  an  aboriginal  people.  They  occupied  Europe 
for  a  long  period,  in  the  same  manner  and  conditions  that  the 
Indians  inhabited  North  America  for  so  many  ages  previous  to 
its  discovery. 

Next,  we  come  to  the  race  of  the  lake-dwellers,  who  found 
their  security  against  wild  beasts,  and  an  advantage  against 
enemies  of  their  own  kind,  in  locating  their  dwellings  on  piers 
extending  out  into  lakes  and  shallow  waters.  Their  implements 
and  the  piles  of  their  rude  dwelling  places  have  been  found  in 
prodigious  quantity  near  the  shores  of  the  lakes  of  central 
Europe.  Utensils  and  arms  of  bronze  and  polished  stone,  with 
some  rude  pottery,  show  that  their  period  was  the  middle  ages  of 
priirfeval  man.  The  unique  location  of  their  dwellings  shows 
that  even  they  lived  long  before  man  had  dominion  over  the 
brute. 

Lastly  we  come  to  the  cave-dwellers.  In  late  years  there  have 
been  opened  up  in  the  bluffs  which  border  the  water  courses  of 
Europe  numerous  caves,  nearly  or  entirely  filled  with  river  sedi- 
ment, in  which  have  been  found  great  numbers  of  rough  stone 
implements  and  a  few  human  bones,  mingled  with  quantities  of 
the  bones  of  the  mammoth,  the  woolly-haired  rhinoceros,  the 
cave  bear,  and  many  other  species  of  animals  now  extinct. 
Places  where  these  early  men  gathered  to  chip  and  fashion  their 
flint  arrow-heads,  axes,  and  hammers,  have  been  found  ;  and  their 
location,  always  in  or  underneath  the  drift  and  gravel-beds  of 
the  Diluvial  period,  gives  evidence  of  the  great  antiquity  of 
these  earliest  known  races. 


48  UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE. 

The  cave  men  lived  on  tlie  flesh  of  all  manner  of  wild  beasts, 
which  they  probably  ate  raw,  breaking  np  the  bones  for  the 
marrow  they  contained.  They  were  themselves  but  little  better 
than  carnivorous  animals.  Aside  from  their  rude  and  unpolished 
implements,  they  have  left  no  other  marks  of  their  presence  and 
life  in  these  dens  than  would  have  been  left  by  a  pack  of  hyenas. 
In  fact,  many  of  the  caves  give  evidence  of  being  alternately 
occupied  by  man  and  by  wild  beasts,  whichever  happened  to 
have  the  mastery  for  the  time  being. 

But  man,  at  this  period,  had  passed  over  the  bounds  which 
separate  him  from  the  brute  creation.  He  had  learned  to  make 
and  use  instruments  to  help  him  in  his  work.  The  Chimpanzee 
and  the  Gorilla  build  sleeping  places,  rude  homes,  for  themselves 
with  branches  and  sticks  in  the  crotches  of  trees,  and  some 
monkeys  use  sticks  and  throw  stones  in  defense  and  in  fighting. 
But  the  cave-men  had  gone  one  step  further.  Some  fortunate 
chance  had  taught  some  more  than  usually  reflective  individual 
that  a  well  directed  blow  of  another  stone  upon  a  piece  of  flint 
would  split  it  into  sharp-edged  instruments  with  which  he  could 
cut  off  a  larger  branch  than  he  could  break  off,  or  cut  up  his 
meat  easier  than  he  could  tear  it  to  pieces  with  his  fingers  and 
teeth.  Then  he  learned  that  a  few  chipping  blows  on  the  end  of 
a  longer  piece  of  flint  would  sharpen  it  to  a  point,  and  that  he 
could  throw  this,  fastened  to  the  end  of  a  stick,  and  wound  a 
reindeer,  with  far  greater  effect  than  with  a  common  stone.  Here 
he  had  a  knife  and  a  spear,  and  he  must  then  have  names  to  dis- 
tinguish them  by.  Thus,  probably,  arose  first  the  rude  arts  of 
life,  and  then  the  rudiments  of  language. 

We  have  said  nothing  thus  far  of  the  physical  conformation 
of  these  cave-men.  They  have  left  exceedingly  few  remains  of 
their  own  persons  ;  probably  from  the  fact  of  their  burning  their 
dead,  or  otherwise  disposing  of  them  out  of  their  sight.  They 
could  live  in  the  midst  of  any  amount  of  the  carrion  of  wild 
beasts,  but  they  were  very  particular  to  remove  every  trace  of 
their  own  dead  bodies.  However,  two  skulls  of  adult  persons 
have  been  found,  one  in  a  cave  at  Engis,  in  Belgium,  which, 
although  denoting  a  person  of  low  intellectual  grade,  does  not 


UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE.  49 

differ  materially  in  type  from  the  ordinary  cranium  of  the  lower 
races  of  mankind ;  the  other,  found  in  a  cave  at  Neanderthall,  in 
western  Germany,  on  the  contrary,  represents  an  individual  more 
than  half  way  down  between  our  lower  races  and  the  anthropoid 
apes.  The  low  and  retreating  forehead,  the  great  development 
of  the  bony  ridge  over  the  eyes,  so  characteristic  of  the  larger 
apes,  the  massive  size  of  all  the  processes  for  the  attachment  of 
muscles,  the  enormous  thickness  and  strength  of  some  other 
bones  of  the  skeleton  found  with  the  skull,  all  denote  the  pow- 
erful and  terrible  wild  ape-man  of  the  Rhine  forests.  There  is 
no  question  of  this  creature  being  a  link  between  man  and  the 
brute ;  and  the  finding  of  one  such  specimen  is  as  conclusive  of 
the  former  existence  of  an  intermediate  race  as  the  discovery  of 
a  single  fossil  archseopterix  was  of  an  order  of  flying  animals 
half  way  between  birds  and  reptiles. 

All  further  traces  of  primitive  man  end  with  those  of  the 
cave-dwellers.  It  is  probable  that  no  others  will  ever  be  found  ; 
because  any  condition  lower  than  this  would  be  simply  animal. 
There  is  then  no  absolute  proof  that  this  lowest  type  of  mankind 
originated  from  the  next  lower  order  of  the  animal  kingdom, 
that  is,  from  anthropoid  apes.  But  this  at  least  is  certain,  either 
the  cave  men  did  so  advance  out  of  the  ape  condition,  or  they 
were  created  in  the  semi-bestial  state  <•  in  which  we  have  found 
them.  But  the  Bible  account  as  well  as  every  mythology  of  man's 
creation  launches  the  first  human  family  into  the  full  tide  of  an 
advanced  culture.  Therefore  no  account  that  we  have  of  any 
supernatural  creation  can  by  any  possibility  apply  to  the  poor 
degraded  cave-dwellers.  The  conclusion  then  seems  unavoidable 
that  they  came  up  through  still  older  and  lower  stages  of  animal 
being ;  that  the  succession  must  run  uninterruptedly  down  and 
into  some  now  extinct  species  of  carnivorous  apes. 

Here  we  leave  the  argument  of  the  evolutionists.  I  think  no 
one  can  say  I  have  not  presented  their  case  with  fidelity  arid  to 
the  best  of  my  ability.  It  remains  to  follow  up  these  premises 
to  their  unwelcome  but  logical  conclusions. 

In  all  this  long  and  slow  progress  from  the  cave-men  or  the 
ape  men  to  the  sovereigns  of  Europe,  embracing  a  period,  some 


50  UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE. 

think,  of  a  hundred  thousand  years,  there  is  no  break  in  the  chain. 
An  exceedingly  slow  but  constant  advancement,  worked  out  by 
the  races  themselves,  spreads  over  the  entire  period.  Where  now, 
it  may  be  pertinently  asked,  in  this  continuous  line  of  progression 
from  ape  to  kaiser,  was  the  point  at  which  immortal  souls  were 
introduced  into  the  race  ?  Brain  capacity,  intelligence,  language, 
cultivation,  were  all  slow  and  toilsome  growths.  But  the 
attribute  of  immortality  could  hardly  be  a  growth.  Either  the 
spirit  of  man  has  an  eternal  duration  and  destiny,  or  it  dies  like 
the  soul  of  the  brute.  Neither  has  immortal  life  come  with  a 
certain  upright  stature,  or  with  a  certain  weight  of  brain,  or  with 
the  dawning  of  language  or  reflection,  or  with  inter-breeding  and 
contact  with  some  favored  race.  By  all  the  principles  of  logic, 
if  the  Europeans  have  immortal  souls  to-day,  their  forefathers 
had  them  when  the  Romans  stocked  the  arena  with  wild  beasts 
and  barbarous  Northmen — their  prehistoric  ancestors  had  them 
in  the  bronze  age,  in  the  stone  age,  and  in  the  far  distant  ages  of 
the  gravel  and  drift  beds — and  their  lowly  progenitors  had  them 
when  they  were  only  gibbering  apes. 

I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  the  great  apostle  of 
scientific  theology  in  his  famous  attempt  to  prove  the  immortal- 
ity of  the  soul  from  the  most  advanced  researches  of  microscop- 
ical science.  It  was  ingenious  and  eloquent,  but  it  turned  out 
as  all  such  theorizing  outside  of  the  Bible  is  apt  to  do,  it  proved 
too  much.  If  there  is  an  element  of  immortality  in  the  myster- 
ious life  force  that  builds  up,  from  undistinguishable  germs,  the 
lion  after  his  kind  and  the  man  after  his  kind,  then  the  lion  is 
as  immortal  as  the  man,  and  all  life  is  immortal.  The  distinguished 
lecturer  himself  realized  the  dilemma,  and  met  it  with  a  sublime 
expatiation  on  the  delight  it  would  afford  the  saints  to  have,  in 
another  world,  the  pleasant  recreations  and  the  domestic  surround- 
ings of  this.  The  spiritual  hunter  would  pursue  spiritual  game, 
and  retrieve  with  spiritual  dogs.  It  is  the  happy  hunting  grounds 
of  our  Indian  aborigines  over  again.  Religion  as  well  as  history 
repeats  itself. 

A  noted  Professor  of  Geology  has  attempted  to  bridge  over 
the  chasm  between  science  and  evolution  by  the  hypothesis  that 


UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE.  5i 

Adam  was  not  the  first  of  the  human  family,  but  simply  the 
head  of  a  subsequent  and  favored  race.  According  to  him,  there 
were  Adamites  and  Pre- Adamites,  the  first  comprising  the  great 
Aryan  race  of  Eastern  Asia  and  Europe,  the  last  comprising  the 
aborigines  of  every  country,  which  the  Adamites  have  been 
constantly  displacing  ever  since  the  dawn  of  history.  The 
descendants  of  Adam  received  the  divine  blessings  and  all  the 
benefits  of  the  Promises.  The  aborigines  struggled  up  as  they 
could,  on  natural  laws  and  the  survival  of  the  fittest.  Now  this 
was  a  most  ingenious  theory.  It  fitted  into  the  rough  edges  of 
both  sides  of  the  great  controversy,  and  gave  to  each  a  pretty 
fair  division  of  the  earth's  inhabitants.  The  whiter  races,  of 
course,  are  given  to  the  religionists,  while  the  darker  are  consigned 
to  the  evolutionists,  the  former  with  immortality  breathed  into 
them  by  their  Divine  Creator,  the  latter — well !  they  are  a  little 
doubtful ;  they  are  in  a  kind  of  "  no  man's  land."  Still  they  may 
have  a  sort  of  improved  brute  soul.  The  Professor  thinks  if  he 
were  called  to  preach  the  gospel  to  the  heathen,  "  his  appeals  to 
the  negro  would  be  of  a  widely  different  character  from  his 
appeals  to  the  Aryan  Hindoo  or  the  Mongoloid  American 
savage."  The  Professor  is  logical.  He  is  to  be  commended  for 
his  honesty.  For  if  the  negro  has  a  soul  to  save,  neither  he  nor 
I,  if  this  evolution  is  true,  can  tell  when  he  got  it  or  how  he 
came  by  it. 

It  has  thus  far  been  our  unpleasant  duty  to  run  down  a  few 
of  the  recent  scientific  theories,  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  where 
they  would  land  us.  If  we  have  seemed  at  any  time  to  present 
them  as  an  advocate,  it  is  only  because  by  showing  them  in  their 
most  favorable  light,  could  we  discover  their  dangerous  tendencies. 
We  have  found  that,  reduced  to  their  logical  conclusions,  these 
theories  are  in  opposition  to  the  Christian's  simple  faith,  and  that 
they  raise  doubts  and  difficulties  in  respect  to  the  scheme  of 
salvation  and  future  life.  Can  it  then  any  longer  be  said  that 
there  is  no  conflict  between  religion  and  science.  Is  it  not  plain 
that  Christian  Institutions  of  learning  should  discriminate  against 
all  text  books  in  which  the  development  theory  is  made  to  explain 
the  great  facts  of  the  Organic  World,  and  that  they  should  look 


52  UNIVERSITIES    VS.    SCIENCE. 

with  suspicion  on  all  new  Geologies,  new  Physics,  or  new  f  angled 
sciences  of  any  kind  ?  It  would  almost  seem  as  if  they  would 
be  equally  justified  in  introducing  among  their  studies  the  phil- 
osophies of  Hume  and  Voltaire,  as  these  latter-day  sciences  which 
tend  to  the  subversion  of  the  tenets  they  were  established  to 
maintain.  As  to  calling  professors,  who  are  known  to  be  tainted 
with  these  heresies,  to  lectiire  to  pupils  who  have  been  confided 
to  sectarian  institutions,  it  would  seem  almost  as  absurd  and  out 
of  place  as  it  would  be  to  invite  Prof.  Tyndall  or  Prof.  Huxley 
to  speak  in  a  religious  meeting. 

One  venerable  President  of  a  University  has  publicly  stated 
that  possibly  the  theories  of  evolution  might  be  admitted  and 
talked  about  "  as  working  hypotheses."  But  we  would  kindly 
say,  let  him  take  warning ;  for  they  will  surely  work  only  mischief 
in  any  well  ordered  and  orthodox  institution.  The  only  safety, 
as  we  suggested  at  the  outset,  is  to  excommunicate  science,  or 
expurgate  the  text  books. 


WHAT  THE  CHEMISTRY  OF  THE  ROCKS 
TEACHES.* 


It  is  a  general  rule  that  substances  can  crystallize  only  while 
solidifying  from  the  liquid  state  of  either  fusion  or  solution. 
The  only  exceptions  are,  that  some  few  substances  crystallize 
directly  from  their  vapors  without  passing  through  the  inter- 
mediate liquid  form.  Now  the  older  unstratified  rocks  of  the 
geological  formations,  as  the  granites,  are  unquestionably  fusible, 
are  crystalline  in  their  structure,  and  are  practically  insoluble. 
Therefore  the  evidence  is  conclusive  that  they  were  all  at  one 
time  in  a  molten,  fluid  state. 

Thus  far,  it  would  appear,  geologists  are  agreed,  since  they 
have  named  these  formations  the  igneous  rocks.  But  whether 
the  melted  minerals  were  ever  heated  to  a  higher  degree  than 
fusion — that  is  to  the  condition  of  vaporized  elements — is  an 
inquiry  either  carefully  avoided  by  the  authorities  in  geology,  or 
merely  mentioned  as  pertaining  to  an  ingenious  hypothesis  which, 
it  is  claimed,  is  unsustained  by  any  sufficient  proof.  It  remains 
to  be  seen,  however,  if  this  theory  of  the  original  gaseous  form 
of  the  material  elements  does  not  follow  as  a  necessary  conse- 
quence from  the  chemical  constitution  of  the  rocks  themselves ; 
and  if  it  does  not  explain  and  bear  testimony  in  geological  and 
cosmical  sciences  to  such  an  extent  as  to  make  it  absolutely 
essential  to  them. 

The  question  here  presented  resolves  itself  into  two  alterna- 
tives :  Either  the  materials  of  the  earth's  crust  were  formed 
according  to  chemical  laws  out  of  the  simple  elements  preexist- 

*  Published  in  Popular  Science  Monthly,  April,  1874. 


54  CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    KOCKS. 

ing  in  gaseous  forms,  or  they  were  created  in  the  condition 
of  melted  and  oxidized  masses  ready  to  cool  into  granite  and 
limestone.  The  latter  supposition  will  hardly  be  seriously 
entertained  in  these  days  of  free  inquiry  into  the  natural  causes 
of  tilings.  It  is  now  not  only  conceded,  but  expected,  that 
science  shall  have  sole  jurisdiction  in  every  case  where  compound 
bodies  are  the  subject  of  investigation.  To  follow  them  back  to 
the  primal  laws  and  elements  of  their  being,  to  reveal  the  cause 
and  manner  of  their  birth  among  the  atoms,  is  now  the  highest 
aim  of  inductive  research.  On  this  border-line  of  inquiry  where 
the  known  shades  off  into  the  unknown  and  the  finite  into  the 
infinite,  science  has  of  late  gained  its  most  signal  triumphs.  And 
it  scarcely  requires  a  prophetic  sense  to  discern  that  the  ground- 
work of  all  systems  of  scientific  knowledge  will  soon  be  laid  in 
molecular  physics. 

In  the  constituents  of  the  solid  earth  we  have  forms  and  con- 
ditions of  matter  of  remarkable  composition  and  complexity. 
The  original  materials  of  the  ground,  of  the  rocks,  and  of  the 
mines,  are  found  to  be,  in  every  case,  fully  saturated  chemical 
compounds.  Many  of  them,  as  the  silicates,  are  adamantine  acids 
neutralized  by  alkaline  bases  harder  than  the  flint.  They  could 
not  be  made  more  stable,  inert,  and  solid.  They  are  materials 
that  have  apparently  gone  through  stupendous  changes,  activities, 
and  combustions,  and  at  last  have  settled  down  to  a  rest  that 
knows  no  waking.  Science  has  no  duty  more  legitimate  or  more 
imperative  than  to  inquire  how  these  rock-masses  came  to  be 
where  they  are,  and  in  the  condition  they  are. 

In  pursuing  this  inquiry,  since  we  find  one  of  the  alternatives 
to  be  inadmissible,  it  is  necessary  to  accept  the  other,  namely, 
that  the  matter  which  composes  the  geological  formations 
preexisted  as  simple  elements,  in  a  gaseous  form.  Oxygen, 
which  makes  up  fully  one-half  the  weight  of  the  solid  parts 
of  the  earth,  is  and  always  was  a  gas  in  its  free  state.  In 
regard  to  the  remaining  elements  that  enter  into  the  composi- 
tion of  the  rocks,  such  as  silicon,  aluminum,  calcium,  and 
sodium,  they  could  not  all  have  existed  on  the  earth  at  the  same 
time  as  melted  liquids ;  for  the  same  heat  which  would  hold  one 


CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS.  55 

in  fusion  would  evaporate  others.  Some  therefore  must  have 
been  contained  in  the  atmosphere  as  simple  gaseous  elements. 
Inasmuch  as  granite  is  beneath  all  the  other  formations,  if  we 
show  that  this  must  originally  have  been  in  a  gaseous  state,  we 
show  that  every  other  material  must  have  been  at  the  same  time 
in  like  condition. 

The  granite  rocks  are  by  far  the  most  abundant  terrestrial  sub- 
stance that  we  know  of.  Geologists  assign  to  them  a  depth  of 
not  less  than  thirty  miles.  And  still  below  them  there  is  the 
same  or  nearly  the  same  chemical  substance  in  fusion,  as  the  fact 
and  analysis  of  volcanic  products  sufficiently  prove.  The  com- 
pound which  is  in  excess  in  all  granite  rocks  is  silica,  the  oxide  of 
the  element  silicon.  The  varieties  are  formed  chiefly  by  small 
percentages  more  or  less  of  the  oxides,  alumina  and  magnesia. 
This  silica,  or  quartz,  as  well  as  the  other  components  of  the 
igneous  rocks,  is  what  has  been  termed  "burnt  material."  It  is 
the  product  of  a  most  complete  and  tremendous  conflagration ; 
for  the  oxidation  of  silicon  is  as  much  and  as  powerful  a  com- 
bustion as  the  oxidation  or  burning  of  coal.  To  accomplish  this 
burning,  every  particle  of  the  silicon  must  have  been  brought 
into  contact  with  oxygen  gas.  This  would  have  been  simply  im- 
possible if  the  mineral  element  had  always  been  in  a  melted  mass 
of  miles  in  depth  ;  for  this,  if  for  no  other  reason,  that  the  oxy- 
gen could  never  have  got  at  it — certainly  not,  if  it  was  covered 
by  other  solid  or  liquid  substances.  -Or,  if  it  were  conceded  that 
silicon  ever  formed  the  surface  of  the  earth,  then  all  other 
materials  of  what  is  now  the  crust  must  have  been  gases  above 
it ;  arid  as  nine-tenths  of  the  elements  in  vapor  are  heavier  than 
oxygen — many  of  them  more  than  ten  times  as  heavy — this  gas 
could  never  have  even  touched  this  imaginary  sea  of  silicon. 
The  oxidation  then  was  only  possible  in  the  regions  of  the 
atmosphere,  where  oxygen  existed  and  abounded.  There  only, 
among  the  free-moving  gases,  could  the  incalculable  amount  of 
heat  evolved  in  the  combination  be  carried  off. 

We  confidently  assume  therefore  that  the  whole  of  this  most 
abundant  mineral  element  once  existed  in  the  atmosphere  in  the 
form  of  a  high-heated  gas ;  and  that  some  time  and  somewhere, 


56  CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS. 

on  the  confines  of  the  enormously  extended  sphere  of  vapors, 
there  was  found  a  current  sufficiently  cool  to  condense  a  portion 
of  it.  If  the  vapor  of  silicon  follows  the  general  rule,  that  the 
density  of  gases  is  in  proportion  to  their  atomic  weights,  then  it 
was  but  a  fraction  heavier  than  oxygen,  and  therefore  not  far  be- 
low it  in  the  atmospheric  strata.  The  unceasing  commotion  of 
the  elements  would  soon  have  brought  this  first  cloud-mist  of 
silicon  into  contact  with  oxygen,  to  which  it  has  a  strong  affinity 
under  high  heat.  Oxidized,  and  in  molten  drops  of  silica,  or 
crystals  of  quartz,  this  new-formed  material  commenced  its  de- 
scent toward  the  center  of  gravity — the  first  creation  from  the 
primordial  elements.  As  it  fell  into  the  more  heated  regions 
below,  it  was  probably  soon  evaporated,  and  the  vapor  rising  car- 
ried up  with  it  the  heat  taken  up  in  the  evaporation.  It  was 
again  condensed,  its  heat  given  up,  and  it  descended  for  another 
charge  of  the  internal  fires.  This  in  all  probability  is  the  epit- 
ome of  the  process  of  world-cooling. 

At  last  the  showers  of  melted  silex  reached  the  liquid  surface 
of  the  nucleus  which  the  force  of  gravity  and  compression  must 
have  formed,  at  an  early  period  of  the  nebulous  globe,  of  less  or 
greater  extent  about  its  center.  From  this  period  the  increasing 
torrents  of  silica,  intermingled  with  the  silicates  which  were 
forming  at  the  same  time,  poured  down  through  the  heavy 
vapors,  arid  filled  up  the  furlongs-deep  of  granite  ocean.  On 
this  vast  deposit,  and  at  about  this  stage  of  the  gradual  cooling 
of  the  earth,  began,  we  must  suppose,  the  first  hardening  and 
crusting  over  of  the  surface,  since  at  this  point,  near  the  close  of 
the  granite  age,  first  commences  the  division  of  the  earth's  crust 
into  varieties  and  layers  more  or  less  distinct,  as  also  the  upbear- 
ing of  the  heavy  metals  which,  without  this  surface-hardening, 
could  never  have  floated  on  any  molten  sea  of  minerals.  The 
slow  cooling  of  the  granite  masses  beneath  this  crust  and  under 
the  enormous  atmospheric  or  other  superincumbent  pressure,  con- 
formed them  to  all  the  acknowledged  conditions  of  the  formation 
of  the  igneous  rocks. 

There  is  found  in  the  different  beds  of  the'granitic  rocks  every 
proportion  of  the  admixture  of  silica  with  the  silicates  of  alum- 


CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    KOCKS.  57 

ina.  It  is  as  if  chances  as  variable  as  winds  and  storms  had 
regulated  the  production  and  mixture.  There  is  every  gradation 
in  the  texture  of  granite,  from  the  fine-grained  blocks  of  the 
quarry,  to  the  coarse  compacted  breccia  so  common  among 
bowlders.  It  is  as  if  the  deeper  beds  had  slowly  cooled  under 
great  compression  and  consequent  immobility  of  the  particles, 
while  the  superficial  layers  had  been  worked  up  and  closely  con- 
glomerated at  the  surface.  There  are  specimens  of  granite  com- 
posed of  massive  angular  crystals  that  seem  as  if  they  had  been 
thrown  together  and  cemented.  It  is  again  as  if  they  were  the 
congealed  debris  of  some  terrific  hail-storm  of  quartz,  mica,  and 
feldspar. 

After  the  greater  part  of  the  silicious  minerals  had  been  de- 
posited, and  the  cooler  exterior  gases  had  thus  been  let  down  to  a 
nearer  vicinity  with  the  heavier  vapors,  we  find  that  the  metals 
proper  began  gradually  to  condense  and  fall.  Those  which  have 
no  active  affinities  for  the  other  elements  were  deposited  in  their 
native  purity.  Others  took  on  the  forms  of  oxides  or  sulphurets, 
according  to  their  first  exposures  or  strongest  attractions.  Among 
the  first  of  these  cloud-productions,  the  rock  records  tell  us,  were 
the  scanty  rainfalls  of  gold  and  platinum,  and  the  more  plentiful 
showers  of  silver  and  copper.  Rivulets  of  native  ores  ran  along 
the  hardening  crust,  filling  the  veins  and  crevices,  or  mingling 
with  the  liquid  quartz  that  was  seaming  the  granite  and  gneiss. 

Then  from  clouds  of  condensing  iron  vapor  that  must  have 
burned  and  scintillated  with  indescribable  magnificence,  fell  the 
thick  heavy  storms  of  the  black  lodestone,  the  blood-red  hema- 
tite, or  the  dark  yellow  pyrites.  Possibly  storm-centers  were 
established,  over  which  the  cyclones  were  held  concentrated  and 
often  repeated,  by  force  of  intense  magnetic  attractions  which 
have  left  their  traces  in  almost  every  iron-mine. 

Following  these,  at  times  and  places,  came  on  the  great  snow- 
storms of  the  waxy  flakes  of  zinc-blende  and  the  pearly  calamine, 
the  red  oxide  or  the  white  carbonate  of  lead  and  the  gray  galena, 
the  beautiful  crystals  of  the  tin-stone,  the  gray  plumes  of  anti- 
mony, and  all  the  tinted  and  varied  forms  of  the  less  abundant 
ores  and  alloys.  Meanwhile  through  all  the  long  ages  of  these 


58  CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS. 

metallic  precipitations,  there  was  continually  falling  over  all  the 
earth  the  white  impalpable  powder  of  lime — the  element  calcium 
condensed  into  cloud-mist  and  oxidized  in  the  upper  regions  of 
the  air. 

These  were  the  great  chemical  periods  of  our  world ;  when 
the  cooling  vapors  of  the  swollen  sphere  were  struggling  to  unite 
and  hold  fast  the  embrace  against  the  antagonist  force  of  heat ; 
when  the  conjoined  elements  were  pouring  down  their  fiery  tor- 
rents, and  the  air  was  laden  with  the  falling  cinders  and  ashes  of 
aerial  conflagrations ;  when  the  vast  workshop  of  Nature  was 
forming  and  sorting  its  raw  materials. 

We  do  not  however  wish  to  be  understood  as  insisting  that  all 
these  minerals  and  metals  came  down  in  just  the  form  and  order 
that  we  have  indicated,  or  that  they  were  regularly  deposited 
and  left  the  orderly  traces  that  perhaps  our  hasty  sketch  would 
seem  to  imply.  There  were  unquestionably  constant  and  pro- 
found commotions  in  the  atmosphere,  and  the  commingling  of 
the  most  diverse  elements.  There  were  doubtless  repeated  melt- 
ings and  chemical  recombinations  at  the  surface,  and  the  rending 
and  comminuting  of  the  newly-formed  crust  by  internal  forces. 
The  history  of  the  earth's  irregularities  and  disorders  forms  the 
greater  part  of  geology. 

But  what  we  do  claim  as  certain  is,  that  all  the  constituents  of 
the  outer  shell  of  our  globe  existed  at  one  time  as  elemental 
gases  above  a  sea  of  matter  that  was  held  in  condensation  by 
superincumbent  pressure ;  that  as  the  earth  gradually  cooled, 
these  gases  condensed  somewhat  in  the  order,  inversely  of  their 
fusibility,  and  directly  of  their  nearness  to  the  outer  bounds  of 
the  atmosphere,  and  fell  to  the  surface  like  rain  and  snow  from 
water-clouds ;  that  they  formed  chemical  combinations  at  the  in- 
stant of  their  condensation  or  subsequently,  according  to  the 
power  of  their  affinities  or  the  elements  that  were  present ;  and 
that,  excepting  the  more  recent  displacements  by  mechanical 
forces,  they  now  lie  in  the  earth  as  they  fell  from  the  heavens. 

The  silica  and  silicates  which  form  the  base  and  by  far  the 
greater  part  of  the  earth's  crust,  became  oxides  of  their  several 
selement  because  oxygen  was  the  superabundant  gas  in  the  earth's 


CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS.  59 

composition.  There  have  been  worlds  made  up  apparently 
without  oxygen ;  for  the  meteorites,  which  must  be  regarded  as 
sample  specimens  from  some  stranger  world  however  they  may 
have  been  dispatched  to  us,  are  mostly  composed  of  pure  crystal- 
line and  malleable  iron,  which  could  have  cooled  into  that  con- 
dition only  where  there  was  no  oxygen  nor  carbonic  gases.  If 
chlorine  had  been  our  superabundant  gas,  the  silicon  would  per- 
haps quite  as  readily  have  united  with  it,  and  formed  as  stable  a 
compound  as  with  oxygen.  But  the  product,  instead  of  being 
the  hardest  of  rocks,  would  have  been  a  liquid,  very  much  re- 
sembling water,  a  little  heavier  and  nearly  as  volatile  as  the 
common  ethers.  In  this  case  there  could  have  been  no  dry  land, 
and  no  living  beings  that  we  can  conceive  of.  Eternal  clouds 
and  storms  would  have  covered  the  face  of  the  surging  and 
boundless  ocean. 

Hitherto  in  our  accounts  of  terrestrial  phenomena,  water  has 
played  no  part.  It  is  probable  that  it  was  early  formed,  and  in 
the  condition  of  vapor  or  steam  diffused  through  the  upper  air. 
In  this  state  it  bears  the  highest  degree  of  heat  that  we  can  produce, 
without  decomposition.  Hydrogen  is  the  lightest  of  all  the  gases, 
and  unquestionably  took  its  place  on  the  outer  limits  of  the  at- 
mosphere. There  it  was  brought  into  contact  with  oxygen  by 
the  commotion  of  the  elements,  and  converted  into  steam  as  fast 
as  its  lowering  temperature  allowed  of  the  combination.  As  we 
might  expect  from  the  respective  positions  of  the  gases,  all  the 
hydrogen  which  fell  to  the  portion  of  the  earth  in  the  making 
up  of  its  constituents  was  transformed  into  water-vapor.  Hydro- 
gen is  found  in  no  other  combination  that  cannot  be  traced 
directly  or  indirectly  to  the  decomposition  of  water. 

The  aqueous  vapor  being  thus  formed  and  lying  in  the  upper 
and  cooler  regions  of  the  air,  it  began  after  a  time  to  condense 
and  fall  toward  the  earth.  Meeting  with  warmer  strata  as  it  de- 
scended, it  was  soon  evaporated  and  sent  up  with  a  load  of  heat 
that  was  set  free  by  a  recondensatiori.  Then  another  and  perhaps 
lower  descent,  for  another  charge  of  heat.  Thus  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  air,  water-vapor  was  cooperating  in  the  work  of  the 
heavier  vapors  of  the  interior.  It  was  the  great  fire-carrier  of 


60  CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    KOCKS. 

the  globe  during  all  the  time  of  the  contraction  and  consolidation 
of  the  lower  elements.  When  every  thing  else  that  was  conden- 
sable had  turned  to  dust  and  ashes  and  fallen  to  the  earth,  at  last 
the  waters  reached  the  parched  and  scorious  surface  and  com- 
menced that  grand  series  of  aqueous  transformations  which  made 
a  new  earth  for  the  indwelling  of  life. 

In  the  first  place  it  was  necessary  that  the  upper  crust  should 
be  hydrated,  precisely  as  lime  is  slacked  by  pouring  water  on  it. 
The  material  which  had  been  last  deposited  was  in  reality  this 
same  caustic  lime.  In  its  lower  deposits  it  was  gradually  inter- 
mixed with  the  sillicious  compounds,  until  these  latter  formed 
without  admixture  the  masses  which  are  now  the  stratified  gran- 
itic rocks.  As  every  one  knows,  the  slacking  of  quicklime 
absorbs  a  large  quantity  of  water  which  is  incorporated  into  the 
solid  as  water  of  crystallization,  and  great  heat  is  evolved  with 
enlargement  of  bulk.  The  pure  silicious  rocks  do  not  take  up 
water  in  this  way,  being  what  is  termed  anhydrous.  All  the 
rock-materials  then  that  lie  above  the  granite,  must  at  some  time 
have  undergone  this  hydrating,  reheating  and  swelling  process. 
We  accordingly  find  that  all  those  strata  which  have  remained 
in  their  original  position,  such  as  gneiss,  the  mica  schists,  the 
clay-slates,  and  the  primary  limestones,  have  the  appearance  of 
having  been  subjected  to  great  heat  and  pressure,  after  having 
been  acted  upon  by  water  and  steam.  In  some  instances  they 
have  been  partially  melted,  in  others  strangely  contorted,  and  in 
others  partly  dissolved.  Under  certain  circumstances  hot  water 
and  steam  will  dissolve  small  portions  of  silica,  and  if  charged 
with  carbonic-acid  gas  will  dissolve  lime  quite  freely. 

The  rainfalls  of  the  primeval  ages  must  have  been  fully  satu- 
rated with  the  oxide  of  carbon  which  has  played  an  important 
part  in  the  making  up  of  the  strata.  In  this  form  it  carbonated 
all  the  limestones,  carried  all  the  building-materials  to  the  shell 
and  coral  land-makers,  and  furnished  the  supplies  for  the  immense 
magazines  of  the  hydro-carbons.  And  after  all  this  there  was 
enough  carbonic-acid  gas  left  in  the  air  for  the  enormous  vegeta- 
tion of  the  coal-beds.  But  it  was  necessary  that  the  carbon  of 
this  gas  should  be  laid  away  in  the  earth  in  some  form,  either 


CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    KOCKS.  61 

burnt  or  unburnt,  before  air-breathing  life  could  come  to  any 
perfection.  The  solidifying  of  the  carbonic  oxide  was  the  latest 
and  slowest  of  the  atmospheric  changes. 

It  appears  that  during  the  epoch  of  the  hydration  of  the  lime- 
rocks  there  occurred  periods  when  the  waters  were  gathered  into 
seas,  and  were  sufficiently  cooled  for  the  existence  of  marine  in- 
fusoria, mollusks,  and  corals.  Life  in  some  form  has  been  ever 
ready  to  spring  into  being  the  moment  that  conditions  and  sur- 
roundings were  suitable  for  it.  After  the  deposition  in  those 
temporary  oceans  of  considerable  thicknesses  of  Cambrian  or 
Silurian  strata  mixed  with  organic  remains,  some  rent  or  uphea- 
val has  let  the  waters  down  to  new  beds  of  unslacked  material, 
which  have  heated  and  as  it  is  termed  metamorphosed  those 
first  fossil  if  erous  deposits. 

The  subsequent  changes  which  the  earth's  crust  has  undergone 
—  aqueous,  volcanic,  and  organic  —  the  working  up  of  the  con- 
glomerates arid  sandstones,  the  depositing  of  the  deep-sea  beds, 
the  overflowing  of  the  traps  and  lavas,  the  storing  away  of  the 
carboniferous  treasures,  are  all  the  story  of  every  hand-book  of 
geology,  and  pertain  no  more  to  one  theory  than  another  of  the 
origin  of  the  rocks.  When  the  quarries  of  the  igneous  rocks 
were  once  made  and  opened  up  to  aqueous  operations,  the  after- 
work  was  merely  mechanics  and  masonry. 

We  have  heretofore  assumed  that  the  gases  which  originally 
composed  the  aerial  envelope  of  the  earth,  took  up  separate  posi- 
tions therein  according  to  their  specific  gravities.  This  might  seem 
to  be  controverted  by  experiments  on  the  diffusion  of  gases,  in 
which  those  of  very  different  weights,  as  chlorine  and  hydrogen, 
will  intimately  commingle,  even  against  gravity,  when  brought 
into  contact.  This  may  be  true  in  the  narrow  compass  of  lab- 
oratory experiments,  and  yet  not  apply  to  any  considerable  thick- 
nesses of  the  gases.  Such  a  diffusion  of  one  mile  in  depth  of 
chlorine  would  be  equal  to  lifting  up  to  the  hydrogen  a  shell  of 
solid  iron  two  feet  thick.  Whether  we  explain  the  distinguishing 
principle  of  the  constitution  of  gases  as  a  mutual  repulsion  of 
their  moleciiles,  or  according  to  a  late  theory,  as  an  incessant 
motion  and  clashing  of  atoms,  there  is  nothing  in  either  to  warrant 


62  CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS. 

the  supposition  of  the  lifting  or  overcoming  any  considerable 
weight  in  the  diffusion  of  gases.  Under  the  first  theory,  diffu- 
sion to  a  limited  extent  would  be  accounted  for  by  the  small 
residuum  of  chemical  or  cohesive  attraction  that  would  remain 
between  the  atoms  when  separated  as  they  are  in  the  gases ;  and 
under  the  last  theory,  by  the  mechanical  impulsion  of  the  mole- 
cules, through  their  hitting  against  each  other.  Evidently  it  is 
a  principle  which  operates  only  within  narrow  limits  and  in  the 
lower  temperatures  of  the  gases.  The  sun  gives  no  indications 
of  such  a  commingling  of  its  gaseous  elements.  Spectrum 
analysis,  when  applied  to  its  outer  edges,  shows  first  hydrogen, 
then  the  vapors  of  sodium  and  magnesium,  and  lastly  those  of 
calcium  and  iron.  The  same  fact  and  order  of  position  are  found 
to  exist  in  the  more  condensed  layers  of  the  sun  spots. 

We  have  also  further  assumed  that  the  elements  in  their  gaseous 
states  have  specific  gravities  corresponding  to  their  atomic 
weights.  It  is  well  known  that  all  gases,  whether  simple  or 
compound,  at  the  same  temperature  and  pressure,  and  not  near 
to  a  condensing  point  or  other  change  of  state,  contain  precisely 
the  same  number  of  molecules  in  the  same  volume.  Therefore 
it  necessarily  results  that  equal  measures  of  the  different  gases 
should  have  weights  corresponding  to  the  weights  of  the  molecules 
of  which  they  are  composed.  Thus  the  atom  of  oxygen  is  six- 
teen times  as  heavy  as  that  of  hydrogen ;  therefore  a  cubic  foot 
of  oxygen  gas  will  weigh  sixteen  times  as  much  as  a  cubic  foot  of 
hydrogen  gas.  This  is  found  to  be  experimentally  true  of  all 
the  gases  that  can  be  measured  or  weighed.  The  apparent  but 
not  real  exceptions  are,  that  in  arsenic  and  phosphorus  two  atoms 
of  the  element  unite  to  form  one  molecule  of  the  gas,  thus  mak- 
ing it  twice  as  heavy  as  it  would  be  according  to  the  general 
rule;  while  in  the  case  of  mercury  and  cadmium,  the  atom 
divides  into  two  in  forming  their  vapors.  Hence  we  are  not  ab- 
solutely sure  in  regard  to  the  vapor-molecule,  and  therefore 
vapor-density,  of  such  elements  as  carbon,  silicon,  and  calcium, 
which  chemists  have  not  been  able  to  volatilize.  But  there  is 
every  probability,  both  from  analogy  and  the  position  in  which 
some  of  them  are  found  in  the  photosphere  of  the  sun,  that  the 


CHEMISTRY    OF    THE   ROCKS. 


63 


vapors  of  nearly  all  of  them  correspond  strictly  to  their  combin- 
ing numbers.  The  following  table  therefore  will  show  the 
relative  positions  in  the  atmospheric  strata,  of  some  of  the  most 
important  elements,  with  the  weights  of  their  atoms  in  hydrogen 
units,  their  vapor-densities  compared  with  air,  and  the  solid  spe- 
cific gravities  of  some  of  them  as  compared  with  water : 


GASES. 

Atomic  Weights. 
H  —  1. 

Sp.  gr.  of  Gas. 
Air  =  1. 

Sp.  gr.  of  Solid. 
Water  =  1. 

Hydrogen 

1 

069 

Carbon 

12 

828 

209 

Nitrogen  _ 

14 

972 

Oxygen  

16 

1  105 

Sodium  

23 

1.59 

98 

Magnesium 

24 

1  66 

1  74 

Aluminum 

27  5 

1  90 

2  60 

Silicon 

285 

1  97 

2  40 

Sulphur  

32 

2  22 

2 

Chlorine  

35.5 

2  44 

1  33 

Potassium  

39 

2.69 

.86 

Calcium 

40 

2  76 

1  58 

Iron 

56 

3  86 

7  80 

Copper  _  

63  5 

439 

8  96 

Mercury  

200  -=-2 

6  97 

13  60 

Silver  

108 

7  47 

1053 

Gold 

196  5 

13  57 

19  34 

Platinum  

198 

13.66 

21.50 

The  atomic  weight  of  any  substance,  simple  or  compound, 
multiplied  into  the  specific  gravity  of  hydrogen  (.069)  will  give 
the  specific  gravity  of  that  substance  in  gaseous  form  as  in 
the  above  table,  and  which  ought  very  nearly  to  agree  with  that 
found  by  actually  weighing  the  gas  when  that  is  practicable. 

It  will  be  noticed  from  this  table  that  the  elements  were  ar- 
ranged in  positions  most  suitable  for  their  combination  and  de- 
position, both  in  geological  order  and  in  the  probable  order  of 
their  condensation  from  vapors.  Oxygen  and  silicon,  which 
doubtless  composed  more  than  four-fifths  of  the  entire  bulk  of 
the  gases,  were  separated  from  each  other  only  by  the  elements 
that  were  needed  to  make  up  the  silicates.  Their  compound, 
silica,  is  involatile,  and  even  infusible  by  itself,  under  any  de- 
gree of  heat  that  we  can  command.  The  same  is  true  of  lime 
and  the  earlier-formed  silicates.  Therefore  it  is  impossible  to 
decide  from  their  volatility  which  of  these  substances  would 


64  CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS. 

have  first  condensed  and  reached  the  surface.  But  as  the  vapor 
of  silica  when  formed  would  still  be  of  nearly  the  same  specific 
gravity  (2.07)  with  silicon  (1.97),  and  would  still  separate  by  its 
immense  volume  the  oxygen  from  the  calcium  below,  we  may 
suppose  that  in  any  case  the  silica  would  have  to  be  condensed  and 
deposited,  in  greater  part  at  least,  before  lime,  the  oxide  of 
calcium,  could  be  formed. 

Along  with  silica  were  formed  and  deposited  the  silicates  of  alu- 
mina— mica  and  feldspar;  then  the  partially  fusible  silicates  of 
magnesia,  lime,  and  iron — hornblende,  augite,  and  talc.  Then 
followed  a  numerous  order  of  complex  silicates,  in  which  the ' 
above-named  ingredients  are  varied  by  small  proportions  of  man- 
ganese, soda,  strontia,  zirconia,  and  many  other  mineral  bases. 
With  and  after  these,  was  produced  the  lime-deposit,  the  last  of 
the  minerals.  The  metallic  vapors,  which  were  all  heavier  than 
the  mineral,  were  condensed  and  deposited  chiefly  during  the 
later  silicate  period,  and  somewhat  in  the  inverse  order  of  their 
volatility,  but  locally  and  irregularly,  as  results  of  great  perturba- 
tions or  storms  in  the  air. 

It  will  further  be  seen  from  the  last  column  of  the  table,  that 
in  no  respect  are  the  materials  of  the  earth  deposited  according 
to  their  specific  gravities  as  solids  or  liquids.  There  is  in  the 
superincumbent  rock  and  ore  masses,  no  order  of  position  that 
would  indicate  in  the  least  the  floating  buoyancy  of  the  lighter 
substances.  Therefore  their  arrangement  cannot  be  referred  to 
any  origin  from  liquid  conditions;  and  the  only  other  theory  is 
that  of  their  gaseous  origin. 

There  are  many  apparent  anomalies  in  the  deposition  of  the 
metallic  and  mineral  compounds,  which  may  require  much  study 
and  perhaps  further  knowledge  and  experiment  for  their  expla- 
nation. Thus  there  is  in  one  place  a  carbonate  of  lime — mar- 
ble— and  in  another  a  sulphate  of  lime — gypsum.  There  are  in 
certain  localities  sulphuret  ores  of  iron  or  copper,  and  in  others 
oxide  ores ;  while  the  metals  of  greatest  vapor  density,  as  mer- 
cury, lead,  bismuth,  and  antimony,  are  found  almost  exclusively 
in  sulphuret  ores.  It  will  perhaps  eventually  be  established  that 
sulphur  was  combined  wholly  into  sulphuric  acid  gas,  as  carbon 


CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS.  65 

was  originally  combined  only  into  carbonic  acid  gas ;  that  both 
were  brought  to  the  surface  of  the  earth  in  solution  with  rain- 
water ;  and  that  sulphur  in  this  form  united  with  the  metals  which 
had  failed  to  be  oxidized  upon  their  condensation  in  the  air,  and 
also  sulphated  the  quick-lime  in  the  earth  which  had  not  been 
carbonated  by  the  carbonic  solution.  Then  there  is  the  exceptional 
production  in  nature  of  the  chloride  of  sodium — common  salt. 
Apparently  in  this  one  instance  the  oxide  is  the  less  stable  com- 
pound. 

But  if,  as  we  have  endeavored  to  prove,  there  is  a  necessity  of 
accounting  in  accordance  with  this  theory  for  the  various  com- 
pounds and  phenomena  with  wrhich  geology  makes  us  familiar, 
then  it  is  in  the  highest  degree  essential  that  experiment  and  re- 
search be  prosecuted  in  this  new  field.  And  there  must  be  no 
hesitation  in  accepting  the  conclusions  to  which  they  lead. 
Should  the  nebulous  origin  of  one  planet  be  thus  established 
by  internal  and  inductive  evidence,  then  the  nebular  theory  of 
the  formation  of  worlds,  which  has  heretofore  been  received  as 
only  a  provisional  hypothesis,  must  be  accepted  as  having  a  scien- 
tific basis.  If  the  earth  has  once  been  a  self-luminous  body,  in 
all  respects  excepting  size  like  the  sun  of  to-day,  it  follows  from 
anology  that  the  other  planets  have  likewise  been  minor  suns 
which  have  become  extinguished  by  the  burning  out  of  their  mate- 
rials. To  an  observer  on  any  unseen  world  among  the  stars,  our 
sun  should  have  appeared  in  those  times  as  a  brilliant  double  or 
multiple  star,  around  which  nine  lesser  companions  have  shone 
out  for  a  season,  and  then  one  after  the  other  folded  themselves 
up  in  darkness. 

Furthermore  the  study  of  this  subject  may  throw  light  on 
many  cosmical  problems — may  tell  us  in  earth- periods  if  not  in 
years,  how  old  the  sun  is  when  his  glowing  vapors  begin  to  con- 
dense into  dark  clouds,  and  perhaps  too  something  of  his  future 
prospects  as  a  luminary.  It  is  remarkable  that  the  spectrum  has 
never  shown  any  indications  of  free  oxygen  in  the  atmosphere 
of  the  sun.  Is  not  the  absence  of  this  element  further  corrobo- 
rated by  the  fact  that  the  solar  spots  which,  there  is  evidence  to 
believe,  are  condensing  clouds  of  iron  and  calcium,  do  not  glow 


66  CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS. 

with  fierce  burning  as  they  would  if  oxygen  were  present? 
Does  not  the  enormous  volume  of  the  sun's  uncombined  hydro- 
gen indicate  that  it  has  not  found  there  the  element  of  its  strong- 
est affinity  ?  And  is  there  not  reason  to  believe  that  the  heat  and 
light  supplies  of  our  great  luminary  will  last  all  the  longer  for 
the  absence  of  this  most  extravagant  fire-generator  ? 

Again,  the  four  outer  planets  of  our  system  have  specific 
gravities  varying  but  little  from  that  of  water.  Considering 
central  condensation  from  pressure,  it  is  probable  that  they  are  not 
more  dense  than  they  would  be  if  composed  of  the  lightest  com- 
pound substance  that  we  know  of.  If  oxygen  had  been  there  in 
excess,  it  would  long  ago  have  burned  and  condensed  their  ele- 
ments, whatever  they  might  be,  into  most  stable  and  solid  forms. 
This  gas  therefore  cannot  have  formed  any  considerable  part  of 
their  constitution.  Is  it  not  then  a  probable  supposition  that 
these  distant  planets  are  composed  of  some  non-combining  and 
inactive  elements  like  nitrogen,  and  that,  undisturbed  by  com- 
bustions or  elemental  agitations,  they  have  quietly  stratified  into 
gaseous  worlds,  retaining  in  great  part  their  original  heat  ?  So 
far  as  the  spectroscope  gives  any  indications  of  their  constitu- 
tion, it  shows  them  to  be  composed  of  gases  unknown  in  the 
earth. 

As  we  have  stated,  the  four  outer  planets  are  very  nearly  of 
the  specific  gravity  of  water ;  then  come  the  innumerable  aste- 
roids, filling  the  place  of  a  missing  planet,  and  of  which  we 
know  but  little ;  then  three  planets  that  are  five  and  a  half  times 
as  dense  as  water;:  and  lastly,  Mercury,  over  eight  times  as 
dense.  Does  not  this  increasing  density  of  the  planets  from  the 
outer  to  the  inner,  imply  that  they  have  been  successively 
formed  on  the  exterior  of  one  great  parent  globe,  and  received 
each  its  proportion  in  the  main  of  denser  elements,  as  it  was 
later  born  ?  That  this  effect  should  appear  somewhat  in  groups 
of  the  planets,  is  owing  probably  to  the  absence  or  excess  of 
oxygen  among  their  components. 

But  if  this  is  so,  what  shall  we  say  of  hydrogen,  the  lightest 
of  all  the  gases,  which  seems  to  be  most  abundant  the  nearer 
to  the  center  of  the  system  ?  To  explain  this  notable  exception, 


CHEMISTRY    OF    THE    ROCKS.  67 

might  we  conjecture  that  hydrogen  is  a  more  recent  production 
than  the  worlds  themselves?  It  has  been  observed  time  and 
again  to  burst  up  from  the  nethermost  regions  of  the  sun  with 
inconceivable  force,  as  if  it  were  the  pent-up  product  of  a  volca- 
no, and  to  throw  up  columns  of  its  flaming  gas,  in  one  case 
200,000  miles  high.  And  these  great  outbursts  of  hydrogen  are 
always  the  precursors  of  the  dark  sunken  spots  in  the  photo- 
sphere. How  came  this  almost  imponderable  ether  to  be  impris- 
oned in  the  deep  craters  of  the  sun,  if  it  is  not  a  product  that  is 
constantly  forming  in  the  solar  caldron? 

But  it  is  easier  to  ask  questions  than  to  answer  them.  And  I 
will  close,  in  the  fear  of  having  already  been  thought  too  free 
with  the  scientific  imagination. 


THE   GENESIS   OF  WORLDS; 

Or,  World  Creations.* 


The  New-World  pioneers  of  the  sixteenth  century,  when  as 
first  comers  they  looked  on  the  sea-worn  shores  and  giant  forests 
of  New  England,  had  in  reality  no  compelling  reason  for  be- 
lieving in  the  veritable  old  age  of  this  new-found  land.  They 
had  no  "  first  order  of  proof  "  that  the  shores  were  not  recentl}7 
upheaved  there  for  them  to  land  upon,  and  with  the  growth  of 
the  centuries  on  them  for  the  purpose  of  testing  the  manhood 
that  was  soon  to  reclaim  them.  But  I  think  those  sturdy  adven- 
turers, if  they  stopped  at  all  to  consider  of  scientific  doubts, 
were  not  long  in  deciding  that  the  scene  before  them  was  con- 
formable to  the  laws  and  processes  of  nature,  and  therefore 
must  have  been  the  slow  growth  of  time. 

In  like  manner,  the  geologist,  looking  into  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  and  finding  here  and  there  the  remains  of  a  tree  or  a  saur- 
ian, presumes  that  they  once  lived  and  grew  in  the  same  locali- 
ties, and  were  buried  and  petrified  under  the  rock-grindings  of 
after-ages.  But  he  really  has  no  absolute  proof  of  any  such  thing. 
They  may  have  been  created  in  the  fossil  state  and  laid  away  in 
the  strata  on  the  same  day  the  earth  was  made.  But  I  think 
the  scientist,  knowing  laws  of  nature  by  which,  with  suffi- 
ciently long  periods  of  time,  all  these  geological  results  might 
have  been  gradually  brought  about,  is  justified  in  believing  that 
they  too  were  the  slow  product  of  nature  and  of  time. 

So  we,  finding  that  the  world  has  certainly  at  some  time  been 
subjected  to  a  heat  at  least  sufficient  to  volatilize  nearly  every 

*  Published  in  Popular  Science  Monthly,  April,  1877. 


TO  THE    GENESIS    OF    WORLDS. 

known  substance,  and  that  there  are  laws  of  nature  by  which, 
through  periods  of  time  immensely  long,  the  earth  arid  the 
planets  might  have  been  rolled  up  from  a  gaseous  nebula  and 
bowled  off  in  their  mighty  revolutions,  have  just  as  much  right 
to  say  that  it  was  so,  as  we  have  to  say  that  the  American  forests 
grew,  or  that  the  Triassic  beds  were  deposited. 

Geology  has  proved  that  the  earth,  up  to  the  primary  rocks, 
was  once  a  molten  mass.  The  crystalline  structure  of  the  un- 
stratified  rocks  compels  to  this  conclusion  ;  for  minerals  insoluble 
in  water  can  only  become  crystallized  in  large  masses  by  cooling 
from  a  state  of  fusion.  If  then  the  earth  was  once  an  incan- 
descent globe  of  melted  rocks — for  everything  above  the  granite 
beds  must  then  have  been  in  a  state  of  vapor — it  is  not  un- 
reasonable to  suppose  that  it  may  have  existed  prior  to  that  time 
in  a  still  more  highly  heated  condition — even  volatilized  and 
diffused  through  space  as  rare  and  attenuated  gases ;  for  this  is 
the  condition  which  all  matter  assumes  under  sufficient  degrees 
of  heat.  In  fact  we  must  either  suppose  that  the  earth  was 
created  as  a  fiery  liquid  globe,  for  which  we  have  no  warrant,  or 
we  must  follow  back  to  the  time  when  its  vapors  were  scattered 
in  space,  unreflecting  and  impenetrable  to  light — when  the  earth 
was  "  without  form  and  void,  and  darkness  was  upon  the  face  of 
the  deep." 

Let  us  start  then  with  that  condition  of  things  which  is  now 
very  generally  conceded  must  once  have  existed — the  diffusion 
of  matter  in  a  nebulous  form  throughout  all  space.  Calculations 
easily  made  show  that  the  nebula  must  have  been  of  extreme 
tenuity — such  that  the  few  grains  taken  up  on  the  point  of  a 
knife-blade  must  have  been  expanded  to  fill  several  cubic  miles. 
A  heat  so  powerful — for  we  know  of  no  other  force  which  could 
thus  hold  apart  the  atoms  of  matter — would  doubtless  be  suffi- 
cient to  resolve  every  known  substance  into  its  simplest  elemen- 
tary constituents,  perhaps  into  a  very  few  primordial  elements ; 
for  chemists  are  far  from  being  satisfied  that  they  have  arrived 
at  the  ultimate  forms  of  matter  in  their  list  of  sixty-five  ele- 
ments. But  however  this  may  be,  we  know  that  the  atoms, 
whatever  they  were,  must  have  been  held  so  far  apart  that  no 


THE    GENESIS    OF    WORLDS.  71 

combinations  could  possibly  have  existed.  Neither  were  they 
drawn  more  in  one  direction  than  another  by  their  mutual  attrac- 
tions, for  they  were  equally  diffused  through  all  space.  Therefore 
heat,  the  great  repulsive  force,  had  overcome  all  the  forces  of  at- 
traction— cohesion,  chemical  affinity,  and  gravity. 

Between  such  mighty  contending  forces  we  can  hardly  imag- 
ine a  state  of  perfect  equilibrium.  Immense  currents  and  world- 
wide surgings  must  be  the  long-continued  if  not  the  permanent 
condition  of  this  state  of  things,  especially  if  we  conceive  it 
brought  about  by  natural  causes.  More  condensed  portions  of 
nebulous  matter  would  be  formed — sections  of  space  larger  or 
smaller  in  which  the  forces  of  attraction  counterbalanced  those 
of  repulsion.  Each  such  section  would  then  have  its  center  of 
gravity,  around  which  all  the  currents  within  its  influence,  by 
the  law  of  the  composition  of  forces,  must  eventually  unite  in 
one.  This  one  flowing  ever  around  and  slowly  toward  the  cen- 
ter, like  a  ball  rolling  down  an  inclined  plain,  goes  faster  and 
faster,  until  the  centrifugal  overbalances  the  centripetal  force, 
and  a  part  separates  completely  from  the  inner  mass.  Thus  a 
ring  is  formed  revolving  around  a  central  nucleus.  Unless  per- 
fectly equipoised  and  of  homogeneous  material,  this  ring  would 
sooner  or  later  break  up  into  a  number  of  globes,  which  by  the 
superior  attraction  of  the  largest,  would  ultimately  coalesce  into 
one.  This  globe  still  contracting  might  throw  off  satellites  or 
moons,  while  the  nucleus,  also  continuing  to  contract,  would  throw 
off  other  planets,  all  revolving  in  nearly  the  same  plane  and  in 
the  same  direction.  All  these  processes  are  in  perfect  accord, 
not  only  with  the  conditions  of  the  heavenly  bodies  so  far  as  dis- 
covered, but  with  known  natural  laws.  Many  of  them  have  been 
successfully  imitated  on  a  small  scale  in  experimental  illustra- 
tions, as  in  the  rapid  rotation  of  oil  suspended  in  water. 

We  have  here  given  only  the  simple  outlines  of  the  famous 
"nebular  hypothesis"  of  Laplace.  In  later  years  the  discovery 
of  nebulse  in  the  heavens  in  all  stages  of  world-formation,  the  evi- 
dence of  the  spectroscope  on  the  unformed  material  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  other  proofs,  have  compelled  for  the  proscribed  hy- 
pothesis a  recognized  place  in  science.  We  do  not  stop  to 


72  THE    GENESIS    OF    WORLDS. 

consider  these  subjects  more  fully  because  it  is  the  purpose  of 
this  article  to  inquire  chiefly  concerning  the  forces  that  would  be 
engaged  in  such  a  process  of  evolution ;  and  firstly,  how  from 
the  preponderance  of  the  repellent  forces  holding  matter  in  uni- 
versal diffusion,  there  came  the  final  mastery  of  the  aggregating 
forces  ever  concentrating,  combining,  and  working  up  the  mate- 
rials of  the  universe. 

The  first  of  the  operations  which  comes  to  our  notice  in 
the  progress  of  this  evolution  is  the  condensation  of  the  gases. 
This  according  to  all  experience  ought  to  evolve  heat ;  but  in- 
stead, we  find  only  that  the  flow  of  the  currents — the  motion  of 
the  masses — is  proportionately  increased.  Is  there  a  connection 
of  cause  and  effect  between  these  phenomena? 

All  motion  that  we  are  familiar  with  requires  the  expenditure 
of  heat.  The  combustion  of  coal  supplies  motion  to  the  steam-en- 
gine. The  evaporation  of  water  by  the  sun's  heat  causes  the  rain- 
clouds  and  the  mill-streams.  The  oxidation  of  certain  elements 
in  the  food  we  eat  is  the  combustion  which  supplies  our  bodies 
with  power  of  motion.  Recent  discoveries  have  shown,  not  only 
that  motion  is  heat  transformed,  but  that  to  produce  a  certain 
quantity  of  motion  an  invariable  certain  quantity  of  heat  is  re- 
quired. 

Again,  the  cessation  of  motion  evolves  heat.  It  is  well  known 
that  by  skillful  blows  with  the  hammer  a  cold  iron  bar  can  be 
made  red-hot.  Two  wheels  revolving  in  opposite  directions  and 
touching  at  the  circumference,  become  highly  heated ;  and  fac- 
tories have  been  warmed  solely  by  this  transfer  of  motion  into 
heat.  Friction  is  but  another  name  for  the  arresting  of  motion, 
and  as  we  well  know  always  produces  heat.  There  is  also  here 
the  same  equivalence  as  in  the  other  case.  The  stoppage  of  mo- 
tion evolves  just  the  amount  of  heat  that  was  required  to  pro- 
duce that  motion. 

The  greatest  triumph  of  modern  science  is  the  splendid  in- 
duction that  all  the  forces  are  correlative  and  indestructible.  Not 
an  impulse  of  motion,  of  light,  or  heat,  or  any  force,  is  ever  lost. 
It  may  be  communicated  from  one  body  to  another,  or  transmu- 
ted into  some  other  form  of  force,  or  become  for  a  time  latent 


THE    GENESIS    OF    WORLDS.  73 

or  imperceptible ;  but  it  always  exists,  and  is  reclairnable  back 
again  into  tlie  same  in  mode  and  quantity  from  which  it  started. 

The  grandest  exemplification  of  these  truths  will  be  found  in 
what  we  are  now  considering,  the  origin  of  the  celestial  revolu- 
tions. The  condensation  of  gases  gives  out  heat  in  direct  pro- 
portion to  the  contraction  of  volume.  The  attraction  of  gravi- 
tation, not  only  between  masses  but  between  all  particles  of 
matter,  increases  in  the  inverse  square  'of  the  diminishing  dis- 
tance. From  these  two  principles  it  can  be  mathematically 
shown  that  in  the  contraction  of  each  great  world-nebula,  heat 
would  be  set  free  in  the  precise  proportion  of  the  increase  of 
atomic  attraction  ;  or  in  other  words  that  it  would  take  the  ex- 
act amount  of  heat-force  that  had  been  released,  to  separate  the 
atoms  again  to  their  original  distance  apart.  But  in  this  instance 
the  heat-force  is  not  really  set  free ;  it  is  transformed  into  the 
motion  of  the  mass  from  which  it  came.  Instead  of  holding  the 
atoms  apart,  the  work  which  it  now  has  to  do  under  the  form  of 
motion  is  to  prevent  the  masses  from  falling  into  each  other. 
It  is  this  motion — the  celestial  revolutions — which  keeps  the 
worlds  apart,  and  allows  each  to  work  out  its  destiny  under  the 
aggregating  forces,  without  any  interference  from  any  other. 
Up  to  a  certain  point  of  condensation,  which  is  previous  to  the 
radiation  of  heat  into  space,  if  this  motion  were  at  any  time 
stopped,  it  would  be  resolved  into  just  the  amount  of  heat 
necessary  to  expand  the  mass  again  to  its  original  dimensions. 

The  attractive  forces,  gravity,  chemical  affinity,  arid  cohesion, 
whether  these  forces  are  many  or  one,  are  inherent  properties  of 
matter.  Every  atom  has  its  definite  capacity  of  attraction, 
which  may  be  exercised  or  not  according  to  circumstances.  For 
it  is  evident  that  an  attracting  body  may  be  at  the  same  time 
drawing  toward  itself  a  million  other  like  bodies,  or  none  at  all, 
without  change  of  its  power  of  attraction.  In  like  manner 
the  magnet  has  a  definite  lifting  power  whether  it  is  actually 
holding  up  a  weight  or  not.  If  this  attribute  of  matter  is  not 
operative,  or  but  partially  so,  it  is  because  heat,  or  motion,  or 
some  repellent  force,  is  holding  the  atoms  or  the  masses  at  a  dis- 
tance from  each  other,  and  thus  opposing  the  exercise  of  it. 


74:  THE    GENESIS    OF    WORLDS. 

The  sura  however  of  the  attracting  power  belonging  to  the 
world  of  matter  is  as  fixed  as  the  quantity  of  matter  itself.  And 
I  think  it  is  in  the  highest  degree  probable  that  there  is  in  the 
universe  precisely  enough  repulsive  force  or  heat  to  overcome  all 
this  inherent  power  of  attraction.  When  all  motion  of  the  masses 
and  of  the  atoms  is  resolved  into  repulsive  energy,  and  brought 
to  bear  on  the  elements  of  matter,  I  imagine  that  they  must  com- 
pletely fill  the  bounds  or  the  infinity  of  space.  Then  if  there 
were  perfect  equilibrium  or  rest,  no  further  changes  or  effects 
could  ever  be  manifested.  Such  a  condition  however  could 
probably  never  result  from  natural  causes,  for  the  time  necessary 
to  the  perfect  balance  of  the  forces  must  be  as  infinite  as  the 
space  through  which  they  extend,  and  to  "  set  bounds  to  space  " 
has  puzzled  philosophy  from  a  very  ancient  date.  If  on  the 
other  hand  the  universe  of  matter  was  created  in  a  state  of  abso- 
lute rest,  we  have  the  further  and  necessary  provision  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  moved  on  the  face  of  his  creation,  and  thus  un- 
balanced the  forces.  But  the  equilibrium  once  broken,  in  what- 
ever manner,  from  that  moment  evolution  must  inevitably  pro- 
ceed. For  let  there  be  an  overbalancing  of  the  aggregating 
force  in  ever  so  little  or  much,  an  equivalent  of  the  opposing 
force  must  thereafter  find  some  other  work  to  do,  and  the  field  is 
effectually  given  up  to  the  mighty  agency  that  combines  and 
constructs  and  brings  order  out  of  chaos. 

So  long  and  in  proportion  as  the  forming  worlds  continue  to 
contract  their  dimensions,  the  rotations  and  revolutions  increase 
in  their  velocity.  Thus  in  the  rapid  and  ever-speeding  move- 
ments of  the  heavenly  bodies  there  is  stored  up  the  ever-increas- 
ing reserve  of  heat  that  is  liberated  from  the  great  contest  with 
gravit}^.  But  in  the  progress  of  concentration  there  comes  a 
time  when  the  atoms  of  matter  have  approached  each  other 
sufficiently  near  for  other  forces  of  attraction,  equally  correlative 
of  heat,  to  come  into  play — chemical  affinity  between  molecules 
of  unlike  nature,  and  cohesion  between  those  of  like  kind. 
Under  the  latter  term  are  included  all  the  changes  of  state  which 
are  the  result  of  cooling,  as  liquefaction  and  solidifying.  By 
these  attractions  heat  is  set  free  in  such  abundance  and  under 


THE    GENESIS    OF    WORLDS.  75 

such  conditions  that  it  cannot  be  stored  away  in  the  motion  of 
the  masses.  It  is  then,  probably  for  the  first  time,  that  heat 
becomes  a  wave  force  and  is  radiated  into  space  as  light  and 
radiant  heat — not  however  lost,  for  that  is  impossible,  but  moving 
ever  onward  and  outward  to  the  day  and  place  of  its  final 
reclamation. 

Our  own  solar  system  has  already  progressed  far  in  this  stage 
of  aggregation.  All  the  planets  and  satellites  have  become 
crusted  over,  and  have  ceased  almost  entirely  to  radiate  heat. 
But  the  sun,  the  great  central  body,  the  one  which  should  last  of 
all  become  cold,  is  still  in  active  combustion  or  chemical  combi- 
nation. Immense  quantities  of  light  and  heat  are  still  radiating 
from  its  surface — so  immense  that  the  little  fraction  which  our 
earth  catches  as  it  flies  through  space,  gives  us  all  the  motion  and 
life  and  beauty  which  we  enjoy.  But  the  sun  is  not  even  now 
the  glowing  orb  that  once  it  was,  as  the  rock-records  of  our  globe 
testify.  Its  bright  radiance  is  slowly  but  surely  fading.  Those 
huge  black  incrustations,  often  twice  as  large  as  the  whole  surface 
of  the  earth,  that  float  awhile  on  its  photosphere  and  then  are 
suddenly  broken  up,  were  not  always  there.  And  if  they  have 
grown  upon  it,  the  uncomfortable  conviction  arises  that  they  will 
continue  to  grow  and  darken  more  and  more  its  life-giving  face. 
Old  age  is  certainly  being  written  on  the  solar  brow.  It  may 
be  millions  of  years  hence — for  time  is  not  one  of  the  economies 
of  nature — but  the  period  will  surely  come  when  light  and  heat 
will  both  have  departed  from  the  sun,  as  they  once  ceased  to  be 
radiated  from  the  earth  and  the  planets  and  the  numerous  stars 
that  have  gone  out  within  the  records  of  astronomy.  A  pall  of 
darkness  wrill  gradually  overspread  the  universe  as  one  by  one 
the  stars  of  the  firmament  shall  fade  away  and  sink  into  gloomy 
lifeless  sleep.  A  day  in  the  grand  calendar  of  creation  has 
passed,  and  a  night  has  followed,  cold  and  dark  as  the  tomb  of 
expiring  nature. 

But  is  there  no  awakening,  no  morrow  to  this  night  of  the 
universe  ?  Is  the  contest  over,  and  never  to  be  renewed  ?  For 
answer,  let  us  seek  out  in  this  case,  as  we  did  once  before,  the 
condition  and  movements  of  the  great  contending  forces.  Those 


76  THE   GENESIS    OF    WORLDS. 

of  attraction  have  now  in  each  world  expended  their  utmost 
possible  energy,  and  are  holding  all  the  forms  of  matter  combined 
and  compacted  in  a  cold  and  rigid  embrace.  The  forces  of 
repulsion  have  entirely  abandoned  the  contest,  and  are  either 
vibrating  through  the  unknown  realms  of  space,  or  are  locked 
up  in  the  swift  and  complicated  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 
It  is  probable  that  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  repulsive  forces 
thus  exists  in  the  form  of  motion.  It  has  been  estimated,  no 
doubt  with  a  near  approximation  to  truth,  that  if  by  any  means 
the  earth  could  be  suddenly  arrested  in  its  rapid  course,  its  mass 
would  thereby  be  raised  to  the  enormous  temperature  of  23,360° 
Fahr. — a  heat  sufficient  to  vaporize  and  dissipate  every  known 
substance.  If  then,  as  would  be  the  case,  it  should  fall  into  the 
sun,  this  heat  would  be  increased  by  the  fall  four  hundred  fold. 
Now  it  makes  no  difference  in  the  aggregate  evolution  of  heat 
whether  this  cessation  of  motion  is  sudden  or  gradual ;  and  if 
we  can  find  in  nature  any  agencies  tending  to  retard  the  revolu- 
tions of  the  planetary  bodies,  they  must  inevitably  sooner  or 
later  fall  into  the  sun.  In  such  a  case  it  can  hardly  be  doubted 
that  we  have  found  a  cause  sufficient  to  produce  again  the  disin- 
tegration and  diffusion  of  matter. 

The  wave-theory  of  light  and  radiant  heat  presupposes  the 
existence  of  an  ethereal  medium  pervading  all  space.  It  must 
be  a  medium  of  material  atoms  held  in  equipoise  by  a  balance  of 
forces,  for  it  is  evident  there  could  be  no  wave-motion  unless 
there  was  something  to  move,  and  something  too  having  the 
attributes  of  matter  in  a  state  of  extreme  mobility  or  fluidity. 
There  is  no  other  conceivable  way  by  which  light  could  reach  us 
from  the  sun  and  stars  except  through  this  all-pervading  form  of 
matter.  And  if  there  is  a  material  medium,  of  whatsoever  ex- 
ceeding tenuity  it  may  be,  it  must  present  something  of  resistance 
to  everything  passing  through  it.  It  resists  the  passage  of  light 
eight  minutes  in  90,000,000  miles,  thus  proving  its  materiality 
by  its  resistance  to  force,  which  is  one  of  the  definitions  of  mat- 
ter. If  one  could  conceive  of  any  force  passing  through  an 
absolute  vacuum,  it  could  only  be  conceived  of  as  passing  instan- 
taneously, for  there  is  absolutely  nothing  to  detain  it.  Again  heat 


THE    GENESIS    OF    WORLDS.  77 

and  its  allied  forces  are  only  effects,  and  the  subject  is  and  can  be 
only  matter.  There  is  no  physical  truth  better  established  than 
that  the  forces  can  exist  only  where  matter  is  in  some  form.  It 
is  not  essential  that  this  form  of  matter  be  subject  to  the  ordinary 
laws  of  gravitation.  The  probability  is  that  it  differs  entirely 
from  anything  that  we  have  experience  of.  It  would  seem  that 
the  atoms  composing  the  ether  of  space,  instead  of  attracting 
each  other  like  those  of  ordinary  matter,  must  repel  each  other. 
At  least  this  supposition  would  account  for  what  there  is  remark- 
able in  connection  with  the  ethereal  medium.  But  whatever 
theories  we  may  adopt  in  regard  to  it,  this  is  certainly  true,  that 
the  revolutions  of  the  heavenly  bodies  must  be  continually  open- 
ing passages  through  it,  and  that  a  certain  part  of  the  force  of 
those  revolutions  must  be  expended  in  pushing  it  aside.  The 
centrifugal  force  is  thus  lessened,  and  the  bodies  are  drawn  nearer 
to  the  sun.  In  consequence,  the  periods  of  their  revolutions 
are  shortened.  This  has  not  as  yet  become  noticeable  in  the  case 
of  the  planets,  from  the  fact  that  the  slow  contraction  of  their 
bulk  by  the  loss  of  internal  heat  through  volcanoes,  thermal 
springs,  and  other  sources,  has  the  contrary  effect  of  increasing 
the  velocity  of  revolution,  and  thus  counterbalancing  the  retard- 
ation by  friction.  The  fact  that  the  two  effects  are  thus  nearly 
counterbalanced,  proves  the  retardation,  for  otherwise  we  know 
that  the  acceleration  would  be  observable.  In  the  case  however 
of  the  light  cometary  bodies,  it  has  been  shown  that  they  suffer 
a  very  considerable  retardation  in  their  passage  through  space. 
Encke's  comet  formerly  came  regularly  back  into  the  iield  of 
the  earth's  orbit  once  in  every  three  years,  but  with  a  period 
shortened  six  hours  each  time.  The  whole  planetary  regions 
seem  to  be  filled  with  collections  of  matter — star-dust  and  mete- 
orites. They  are  all  revolving  about  the  sun  in  eccentric  orbits, 
and  are  doubtless  slowly  circling  toward  it.  The  zodiacal  light 
is  supposed  to  be  only  an  immense  aggregation  of  this  material. 
Thus  the  thickening  stratum,  as  these  strange  bodies  draw  near 
to  the  sun,  shows  that  they  are  all  slowly  gathering  to  that  great 
center  of  attraction. 


78  THE    GENESIS    OF    WORLDS. 

The  evident  effect  of  the  fall  of  any  of  the  planets  into  the 
sun  would  be  the  diffusion  of  highly-heated  vapors  far  out  into 
the  spaces  that  surround  it — probably  far  enough  to  reach  the 
next  outlying  planet,  and  thereby  to  increase  its  retardation  and 
hasten  its  fall  into  the  mighty  caldron.  So  one  by  one  the 
planets  dissolve  and  their  elements  fill  the  void  of  space.  The 
expanding  gases  catch  up  the  waves  of  radiant  heat  that  have 
long  been  wandering  from  planets  and  suns  and  the  nebula  is 
again  seething  and  surging  with  its  mighty  contending  forces. 
Sun-system  reaches  out  to  sun-system,  and  star-galaxy  mingles 
with  star-galaxy,  till  through  all  the  abysmal  depths  matter  is 
again  "  without  form  and  void,  and  darkness  is  upon  the  face  of 
the  deep."  Chaos  has  returned  once  more,  again  to  be  breathed 
upon  by  the  Omnipotent  Spirit  that  reforms  and  recreates. 


ON  THE   STRUCTURE  OF   ATOMS. 


Chemists  are  now  quite  generally  disposed  to  admit  that  the 
original  and  ultimate  form  of  all  matter  is  some  single  simple 
substance,  and  that  what  we  call  the  atoms  or  simple  elements, 
numbering  now  about  sixty-five,  are  only  different  manifestations 
of  this  universal  matter,  depending  on  the  quantity  combined 
and  the  degree  or  complexity  of  its  condensation.  This  theory 
accords  so  well  with  the  first  principles  of  chemical  science,  and 
with  the  tendency  of  all  inductive  knowledge,  which  is  to  bring 
facts  and  particular  phenomena  under  more  simple  and  general 
laws  and  conditions,  that  there  is  scarcely  a  writer  on  chemistry 
who  has  not  somewhere  shown  a  leaning  toward  this  greatest  of 
all  generalizations — the  unification  of  matter. 

This  field  of  inquiry  is  the  great  border  land  between  the 
known  and  the  unknown.  As  such,  it  has  been  so  long  the 
batting  ground  of  the  metaphysicians,  that  one  feels  almost  like 
offering  an  apology  for  attempting  to  introduce  a  little  common 
sense,  or  at  least  common  language,  into  it.  Still  I  have  the 
courage  to  think  that  some  clear  reasoning  may  be  held  and  some 
pertinent  facts  presented  looking  towards  this  great  simplifica- 
tion. I  will  at  least  attempt  to  find  how  far  we  can  go  in 
this  direction  without  abstruse  speculation. 

It  is  a  well  known  principle  of  chemistry  that  all  true  gases, 
under  the  same  quantity  of  heat  and  pressure,  have  precisely  the 
same  number  of  molecules  or  ultimate  particles  in  the  same  vol- 
ume. A  cubic  foot  of  oxygen  or  hydrogen  or  carbonic  acid  or 
any  other  gas  contains  in  each  case  exactly  the  same  number  of 
atoms  or  molecules.  Therefore  the  weights  of  the  cubic  feet  of 
all  the  gases  will  correspond  to  the  weights  of  their  molecules. 


80  ON    THE    STRUCTURE    OF    ATOMS. 

A  cubic  foot  of  oxygen  will  weigh  just  sixteen  times  as  mucli  as 
a  cubic  foot  of  hydrogen,  because  the  atom  of  oxygen  is  sixteen 
times  heavier  than  the  atom  of  hydrogen.  It  is  immaterial  then 
whether  we  say  two  atoms  or  two  measures  of  hydrogen  unite 
with  one  of  oxygen  to  form  water.  In  this  case  the  three  vol- 
umes of  the  original  gases  are  condensed  in  the  combination  into 
two  volumes  of  water-vapor  or  steam.  If  we  were  to  suppose 
that  these  measures  were  cubic  inches,  and  that  each  one  con- 
tained 1,000  atoms,  then  the  case  would  stand  in  this  wise  :  2,000 
atoms  of  hydrogen  have  combined  with  1,000  atoms  of  oxygen, 
and  these  3,000  have  formed  2,000  molecules  of  water-gas. 
Each  molecule  of  the  water  therefore  contains  one  atom  of 
hydrogen  and  one-half  an  atom  of  oxygen.  The  oxygen  atom 
has  divided  itself  into  two,  and  the  hydrogen  has  not  divided. 

Let  us  take  another  instance.  Three  atoms  of  hydrogen  unite 
with  one  of  nitrogen  to  form  two  molecules  of  ammonia.  The 
compression  in  this  case  is  four  volumes  into  two.  Of  course 
each  molecule  of  ammonia  contains  one  and  a  half  atoms  of  hy- 
drogen and  one-half  atom  of  nitrogen.  Both  hydrogen  and 
nitrogen  have  in  this  case  divided  their  atoms  into  two.  Again, 
one  atom  of  hydrogen  unites  with  one  atom  of  chlorine  to  make 
two  molecules  of  hydrochloric  acid,  each  molecule  of  the  latter 
containing  one-half  atom  each  of  hydrogen  and  chlorine.  Now 
one  molecule  of  ammonia  will  unite  with  one  molecule,  of  hydro- 
chloric acid  to  form  two  molecules  of  sal-ammoniac  or  muriate  of 
ammonia.  Evidently  a  molecule  of  the  latter  is  composed  in 
the  following  manner :  (|H.  +  JN)  +  (JH  +  JC1) ;  and  here  is  the 
proof  of  it.  Reducing  the  above  to  their  atomic  weights:  £  4- 
3£  +  J-f  8-J  =  13f  =  atomic  weight  of  sal-ammoniac.  Now,  any 
given  measure  of  air  being  called  1,  the  same  measure  of  H. 
will  weigh  .069,  which  is  called  its  specific  gravity.  The  atomic 
weight  of  any  gas  multiplied  into  that  decimal  will  give  the 
specific  gravity  of  that  gas.  Therefore  13f  multiplied  into  .069, 
which  is  .92,  is  the  calculated  specific  gravity  of  muriate  of  am- 
monia gas.  This  gas  has  been  carefully  weighed,  and  the  ob- 
served specific  gravity  found  to  be  .89.  The  two  are  considered 
to  correspond  within  the  limits  of  error. 


ON    THE    STRUCTURE    OF    ATOMS.  81 

Let  us  take  one  more  example.  Two  molecules  of  ammonia, 
2(l^-H  +  i|-N).  unite  with  one  molecule  of  sulphuretted  hydro- 
gen, (11  +  -JS),  to  make  three  molecules  of  hydrosulphate  of 
ammonia.  Therefore  a  molecule  of  this  latter  substance  is  com- 
posed as  follows:  (H  +  iN)  +  (£H  +  |S),  that  is,  l+4f  +  i  +  5i= 
11-J,  its  molecular  weight.  This  multiplied  into  .069  makes  .78, 
the  calculated  specific  gravity,  while  the  observed  is  .79. 

In  this  manner  we  have  found  that  the  atom  of  hydrogen 
divides  itself  into  halves,  thirds,  and  quarters ;  that  of  nitrogen 
into  halves  and  quarters,  and  that  of  sulphur  into  sixths.  In 
like  manner  it  can  be  shown  (see  table  appended  hereto)  that 
chlorine  subdivides  into  halves,  thirds,  and  quarters,  phosphorus 
into  eighths,  carbon  into  sixths,  and  nitrogen  and  oxygen  into 
thirds.  Thus  we  see  that  atoms  are  far  from  being  the  indivis- 
ible things  which  their  name  would  imply  and  the  chemical  books 
assert.  They  can  be  "cut  up"  at  least  into  twelfths,  which  is 
the  common  divisor  of  the  fractions  named  above. 

When  simple  elements  combine  chemically,  as  oxygen  and 
hydrogen  to  form  water,  there  is  always  a  product  entirely 
different  from  either  of  the  components.  Ordinary  mixtures 
of  the  gases,  as  oxygen  and  nitrogen  in  the  atmosphere,  although 
to  all  appearance  as  intimately  associated  as  chemical  combina- 
tions, yet  still  retain  all  the  properties  of  the  ingredients.  On 
the  other  hand,  chemical  compounds  will  not  show  a  trace 
of  the  qualities  of  the  original  constituents.  The  atoms  them- 
selves have  been  broken  up  and  rearranged.  There  has  been  a 
new  distribution  of  original  matter  in  the  molecules,  and  an 
entirely  new  substance  has  come  out  of  it. 

The  alotropic  states  of  oxygen  in  ozone  and  antozone,  as  also 
those  of  phosphorus,  sulphur,  carbon  and  others,  where  the  same 
simple  substances  under  different  circumstances  present  entirely 
different  properties,  can  be  explained  only  on  the  supposition 
that  there  is  some  change  or  rearrangement  of  the  internal 
mechanism  of  the  atoms  themselves. 

Light  is  supposed  to  be  a  wave  motion  passing  through  space, 
by  means  of  an  all-pervading  ethereal  medium,  at  the  rate  of 
180,000  miles  in  a  second.  Each  color  of  the  spectrum  has  its 


82  ON    THE    STRUCTURE    OF    ATOMS. 

own  determinate  length  of  wave,  though  all  colors  travel  with 
the  same  speed,  and  together  form  white  light.  In  every  inch 
of  the  progress  of  light  there  would  be  38,000  waves  of  red  and 
59,000  waves  of  violet,  and  intermediate  numbers  for  every 
shade  of  the  other  and  intermediate  colors. 

Now  in  the  passage  of  white  light  through  the  gases  or  vapors 
of  the  simple  elements,  as  is  the  case  with  the  light  from  the  sun, 
certain  colors  are  absorbed  or  held  back,  and  the  spectroscope, 
which  simply  spreads  light  out  into  its  component  colors,  shows 
just  what  colors  each  elemental  gas  retains,  by  the  dark  bands 
which  cross  the  spectrum.  This  is  an  infallible  test  by  which 
any  gaseous  element  may  be  known  whenever  interposed  before 
any  luminous  substance.  Some  of  the  elemental  gases  cut  out 
but  few  bands  of  colors,  others  a  great  many.  Hydrogen  for  in- 
stance has  but  four  dark  bands,  while  in  the  spectrum  of  the 
vapor  of  iron  there  have  been  counted  something  like  a  thousand 
bands.  Now  each  of  these  numerous  bands  indicates  that  some 
infinitesimal  portion  of  the  atom  of  iron  has  the  power  or  the 
freedom  to  vibrate  exactly  in  unison  with  the  rays  thus  absorbed, 
and  that  these  particular  vibrations  of  the  light  are  communicated 
to  parts  of  the  iron  atom  instead  of  passing  on  their  way  unob- 
structed. But  it  is  impossible  to  suppose  that  a  single  solid 
atom  has  the  power  to,  and  does  thus  actually  vibrate  in  a  thou- 
sand different  periods  at  the  same  time.  This  power  can  only  be 
conceived  of  as  belonging  to  a  thousand  or  more  sub-atoms  or 
portions  of  which  the  atom  of  iron  may  be  composed. 

But  if  the  elemental  gases  are  in  a  state  of  incandescence, 
that  is  are  themselves  emitting  the  light,  as  is  shown  in  the  vola- 
tilization of  substances  in  the  electric  arc-light,  then  they  send 
forth  only  the  same  rays  which  by  the  former  supposition  they 
absorbed.  That  is,  four  bright  lines  would  be  all  the  light  we 
should  get  from  incandescent  hydrogen,  while  something  like  a 
thousand  very  fine  bright  lines  would  represent  the  light  from 
glowing  iron  vapor.  In  this  case  the  thousand  portions  of  the 
iron  atom  which  have  the  power  to  vibrate  in  the  same  periods 
with  certain  light-waves,  are  the  only  ones  that  when  set  in  motion 
by  high  heat  can  communicate  motions  to  the  ether  which  come 


ON  THE  STRUCTURE  OF  ATOMS.  83 

within  the  limits  of  luminiferous  vibrations.  Hence  we  have  the 
law  of  Angstrom,  that  a  gas  when  luminous  emits  rajs  of  light 
of  the  same  refrangibility  as  those  which  it  has  the  power  to 
absorb. 

Heat,  which  is  a  vibrating  movement  of  greater  amplitude 
than  light,  affects  the  individual  atom,  not  in  its  parts  like  light, 
but  as  a  whole,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  following  remarkable 
property  of  substances,  known  as  specific  heat.  In  all  substances 
whether  solid,  liquid,  or  gaseous,  a  given  quantity  of  heat  will 
raise  the  temperature  of  an  equal  number  of  atoms  or  molecules 
the  same  number  of  degrees.  Thus  9  Ibs.  of  water,  56  Ibs.  of 
iron,  118  Ibs.  of  tin,  200  Ibs.  of  mercury,  warmed  by  the  same 
amount  of  heat,  would  each  cause  the  thermometer  to  rise  exactly 
the  same  number  of  degrees.  These  numbers,  as  is  well  known, 
represent  the  relative  weights  of  the  molecules  or  atoms  of  these 
several  substances,  and  of  course  the  quantities  given  above  must 
contain  each  the  same  number  of  molecules.  Therefore  the 
mode  of  motion,  or  the  force,  which  we  call  heat  affects  all 
molecules  or  atoms  alike,  no  matter  how  light  or  how  heavy  they 
may  be.  Now  it  is  contrary  to  all  the  laws  that  we  know  of,  for 
a  force  to  move  a  heavy  body  as  easily  as  a  light  one.  Conse- 
quently we  must  suppose  the  atoms  to  be  constructed  on  entirely 
different  principles  from  ordinary  aggregations  of  matter.  It  is 
probable  that  motion,  perhaps  the  vortex  motion  of  minute  por- 
tions of  the  ethereal  fluid  of  space,  is  all  we  can  predicate  of 
them. 

In  all  substances,  simple  or  compound,  there  is  a  degree  of 
temperature  at  which  the  particles  are  suddenly  released  from  all 
cohesive  attraction,  and  at  once  have  a  tendency  to  fly  away  from 
each  other.  This  is  at  the  transition  from  a  liquid  to  a  gaseous 
state,  and  the  degree  of  heat  at  which  this  change  is  operated  is 
called  the  boiling  point  of  each  substance.  At  this  point  there 
is  a  change  in  the  balance  of  the  forces  lodged  in  the  molecule — 
they  now  repel  instead  of  attracting  each  other.  The  changes 
must  be  in  the  forces  inherent  in  the  particles  themselves,  for 
all  we  have  done  by  the  increase  of  heat  is  to  remove  them  a 
little  further  apart,  when  all  at  once  they  burst  away  and  endeavor 


84  ON  THE  STRUCTURE  OF  ATOMS. 

to  separate  from  each  other.  It  is  as  if  the  atoms  were  made  up 
of  two  kinds  of  sub-atoms,  one  kind  attracting  and  the  other  re- 
pelling all  others.  If  the  one  kind  attracted  according  to  the 
inverse  square  of  the  distance,  as  is  the  case  in  the  attraction  of 
gravitation,  and  if  the  other  kind  repelled  simply  as  the  distance, 
which  is  the  law  of  the  gases  and  probably  of  all  repellent  forces, 
then  of  course  in  the  separation  of  molecules  composed  of  these 
two  kinds,  there  would  always  be  a  point  where  the  repellent 
force  decreasing  simply  as  the  distance  would  overbalance  the 
attracting  force  decreasing  as  the  square  of  the  distance. 

In  organic  compounds  there  are  numerous  series  which  increase 
regularly  in  the  complexity  of  molecules,  by  the  successive  addi- 
tions of  CH2 — such  as  the  alcohol,  the  ether,  and  the  ethyl  series. 
Now  it  is  found  that  with  a  considerable  degree  of  regularity 
the  addition  of  each  carbon  atom  raises  the  boiling  point  of  the 
compound  from  fifty  to  sixty  degrees,  Fahr.,  while  each  hydrogen 
atom  lowers  it  about  ten  degrees,  the  average  of  the  CH2  group 
being  about  thirty-five  degrees  rise.  Although  variable  and  de- 
pending somewhat  on  the  other  elements  in  the  compound,  yet  this 
change  in  the  boiling  point  is  so  constantly  in  one  direction  and 
so  nearly  uniform  as  to  indicate  conclusively  that  there  is  a  law 
connecting  the  two  occurrences.  The  evident  meaning  of  this 
fact  is  that  carbon  adds  to  the  cohesive  force  of  molecules,  while 
hydrogen  takes  away  from  it.  The  balance  of  the  force  in  the 
carbon  atom  is  an  attraction,  while  in  the  hydrogen  it  is  a  repul- 
sion. This  is  in  accordance  with  the  nature  or  properties  of  each. 
Carbon  has  never  been  volatilized  or  even  fused  by  any  heat 
that  it  is  in  the  power  of  man  to  control.  There  is  seemingly  no 
principle  of  repulsion  in  it.  On  the  other  hand,  hydrogen  shows 
no  signs  of  atomic  cohesion  ;  there  is  no  force  which  can  press  it 
or  freeze  it  into  close  enough  contact  to  make  it  take  the  form  of 
a  liquid  or  solid.  The  principle  of  atomic  attraction  seems  to  be 
wholly  absent  from  its  units.  Hydrogen  is  the  most  electro  pos- 
itive of  all  the  elements,  and  as  is  well  known  the  positive  or 
vitreous  electricity  is  that  which  makes  all  light  bodies  repel 
each  other.  While  carbon  stands  at  the  head  of  the  electro 
negative  solid  elements,  which  form  of  electricity  makes  light 


ON  THE  STRUCTURE  OF  ATOMS.  85 

bodies  attract  eacli  other.  All  the  other  elements  vary  in  their 
electric  properties  between  these  two,  and  the  fact  that  they  do 
vary  shows  that  they  are  composed  in  varying  proportions  of 
parts  or  substances  that  attract  or  repel. 

There  is  indubitable  evidence  that  the  earth  was-once  a  mass 
of  melted  rock  material.  The  crystalline  structure  of  all  the 
primitive  rocks  shows  this.  They  could  not  have  crystallized 
except  they  had  been  previously  in  a  state  of  fusion.  There  is 
also  evidence  that  in  still  earlier  periods  all  the  matter  forming 
the  earth's  crust  was  in  a  gaseous  state.  In  no  other  condition 
could  all  the  silicon  and  calcium  and  every  other  mineral  have 
become  completely  oxidized.  The  chemistry  of  the  rocks  is  a 
complete  vindication  of  the  nebular  hypothesis.  The  moon  has 
gone  through  the  same  fiery  ordeal,  as  the  volcanic  nature  of  its 
surface  gives  evidence.  The  planet  Mars  is  exactly  like  the 
earth  in  all  its  main  features,  and  in  all  probability  reached  this 
similitude  through  the  same  cycle  of  changes  that  the  earth  has 
gone  through.  The  sun  is  to-day  still  in  the  later  stages  of  its 
gaseous  state.  Iron,  calcium,  magnesium  and  sodium  are  still 
vapors  on  its  heated  surface.  Every  indication  goes  to  show  that 
all  the  bodies  of  our  solar  system  were  once  in  gaseous  or  nebu- 
lous conditions. 

Now  either  the  material  substances  composing  each  planet  and 
satellite  were  created  separate  from  all  the  others  and  around 
each  one's  own  center  of  gravity,  or  else  the  matter  of  the  whole 
system  was  once  equally  diffused  through  all  the  space  comprised 
within  the  planetary  orbits,  with  but  one  center  of  gravity. 

In  regard  to  the  first  alternative  we  must  of  course  acknowl- 
edge that  it  is  impossible  to  argue  against  the  assertion  of  direct 
creation ;  because  certainly  the  Creator  could,  if  he  had  seen  fit, 
have  spoken  into  being  every  part  of  the  universe  in  fully  devel- 
oped conditions.  But  inasmuch  as  he  has  not  done  so  in  any 
single  instance  that  has  been  closely  investigated,  but  has  left  his 
purposes  to  be  worked  out  by  the  laws  which  he  has  ordained,  so 
I  maintain  that  if  we  can  form  a  reasonable  and  probable  theory 
of  the  formation  of  the  planetary  worlds  out  of  a  more  general 
diffusion  of  nebular  matter,  we  are  fully  authorized  to  adopt  it. 


86  ON    THE    STKUCTUJKE    OF    ATOMS. 

The  nebular  theory  of  LaPlace  does  this  so  completely  that 
every  physicist  feels  that  it  is  a  true  one,  whether  it  can  be  abso- 
lutely proved  or  not. 

If  it  is  true,  and  the  matter  of  our  solar  system  was  ever  thus 
expanded  to  fill  the  planetary  spaces,  then  this  matter  must  have 
been  very  nearly  homogeneous ;  that  is,  all  its  ultimate  particles, 
however  small,  mast  have  been  of  nearly  the  same  weight  or 
attractive  force.  For  if  it  had  consisted  of  atoms  of  much  dif- 
ferent weights,  like  those  of  our  sixty -five  elements,  many  of 
which  are  over  two  hundred  times  heavier  than  the  lightest,  then 
the  densest  must  inevitably  have  collected  at  the  center  of  the 
mass.  There  would  have  been  a  very  great  increase  in  the  den- 
sity of  the  planets  according  to  their  nearness  to  the  sun.  The 
outer  ones  would  have  been  composed  of  hydrogen  ;  the  inner 
ones  perhaps  of  the  minerals  lime,  silica,  &c.,  and  the  sun  would 
probably  have  retained  all  the  heavier  metals,  as  silver,  mercury, 
lead,  gold,  and  platinum.  It  is  almost  inconceivable  that  the 
earth  should  have  really  had  such  a  mixture  of  the  lightest  and 
densest  of  the  elements,  ranging  in  comparative  weights  from  1 
•up  to  230,  or  that  the  sun  should  be  surrounded  by  such  im- 
mense volumes  of  hydrogen,  the  lightest  of  all  the  elements, 
while  underlying  it  should  be  the  vapors  of  sodium,  magnesium, 
calcium,  and  iron,  belonging  to  the  category  of  lighter  elements. 

The  supposition  which  most  fully  meets  the  requirements  of 
the  case  we  have  been  presenting,  is  that  at  least  some  of  the 
lighter  and  simpler  elements  of  each  planet  and  satellite  contin- 
ued in  some  manner  to  be  formed  and  brought  out  during  the 
cooling  and  condensation  of  each  body.  It  is  a  very  bold  specu- 
lation, but  after  all  it  is  sometimes  necessary  to  form  what  are 
called  "working  hypotheses,"  and  then  work  up  to  them,  and 
ascertain  what  there  may  be  of  truth  in  them. 

It  is  now  an  almost  every  day  occurrence  with  the  astronomers 
to  watch  through  the  spectro-telescope  the  eruptions  of  hydrogen 
gas  on  the  surface  of  the  sun.  Enormous  volumes  of  this  gas 
are  frequently  seen  to  burst  up  through  the  chromosphere  and 
ascend  with  amazing  velocity  to  a  height  sometimes  of  200,000 
miles.  These  outbursts  often  carry  up  with  them  the  glowing 


ON    THE    STRUCTURE    OF    ATOMS.  87 

vapors  of  iron,  magnesium,  &c.,  showing  that  they  come  from 
beneath  these  low-lying  vapors.  Schellen  says  (Spectrum  Anal- 
ysis, p.  306) :  "  It  appears  that  eruptions  of  hydrogen  take  place 
from  the  interior  of  the  sun  ;  their  form  and  the  extreme  rapid- 
ity of  their  motion  necessitates  the  hypothesis  of  a  repulsive 
power,  at  work  either  at  the  surface  or  in  the  mass  of  the  sun, 
which  Respighi  attributes  to  electricity."  Now  how  could  this 
hydrogen  gas  get  down  underneath  the  vapor  of  iron,  which  is 
fifty-six  times  heavier  than  it  is,  unless  it  was  formed  and  molded 
there  ? 

We  are  to  suppose  that  electricity  has  everything  to  do  with 
these  tremendous  outbursts ;  for  whenever  they  occur  there  is 
instantly  sent  out  from  them  such  an  electric  disturbance  that 
the  minute  portion  which  the  earth  picks  up  creates  auroral 
displays,  electric  storms,  and  terrific  cyclones.  Now  the  little 
manifestation  of  electrical  action  which  we  have  in  our  thunder 
storms,  brings  about  the  union  of  nitrogen  with  oxygen,  forming 
the  nitrous  acid  compounds  in  the  air,  and  of  nitrogen  with  hy- 
drogen, forming  ammonia  which  is  almost  always  perceived  in 
the  air  after  a  near  stroke  of  lightning;  and  it  also  changes  oxy- 
gen into  the  alotropic  state  of  ozone.  Now  if  our  comparatively 
feeble  electric  actions  are  able  to  accomplish  so  much  in  the 
way  of  chemical  combinations  and  changes,  what  must  the 
inconceivably  more  powerful  action  in  the  sun  be  enabled  to  per- 
form in  the  way  possibly  of  atom  formation  ?  I  do  not  think  it 
unreasonable  to  suppose  that  it  might  originate  the  vortical  whirl 
of  ethereal  particles,  which  some  of  our  most  distinguished 
scientists  think  constitutes  the  elemental  atoms.  They  conclude 
from  certain  physical  principles  and  analogies  that  all  atoms  are 
only  vortices  of  infinitesimal  quantities  of  the  ethereal  matter 
that  pervades  all  space,  similar  to  smoke  rings,  only  in  far  more 
complicated  patterns.  It  might  be  supposed  that  in  such  a 
tremendous  electrical  laboratory  as  the  sun,  immense  numbers  of 
these  vortices  of  various  patterns  were  evolved,  but  that  only  a 
few  forms  and  combinations  would  be  able  to  withstand  the  pow 
erf nl  repellent  force  of  heat,  or  in  other  words  that  it  was  a  case  of 
the  survival  of  tjie  fittest ;  and  as  hydrogen  is  the  simplest  and 


ON    THE    STRUCTURE    OF    ATOMS. 


lightest  of  all-  the  atoms,  it  would  naturally  be  the  most  abun- 
dantly formed  or  preserved,  as  we  see  is  the  case  at  present  in 
the  solar  workshop. 


APPENDIX. 

The  proof  of  the  correctness  of  the  following  figures  is  the 
multiplication  of  atomic  weights  into  .069,  the  specific  gravity 
of  hydrogen,  making  the  calculated  specific  gravity  of  each 
substance,  and  the  comparison  of  this  with  the  gases  as  actually 
weighed.  The  divisions  of  the  atoms  in  the  examples  given  are 
as  follows : 

Hydrogen — £,  -J.  Chlorine — J-,  £,  J. 

Nitrogen — J-,  -J,  J.  Phosphorus — J,  £. 

Oxygen — J-.  Sulphur — -J-. 

Carbon — J,  -J-.  Iodine — J. 

For  an  atom  to  be  divided  into  both  thirds  and  quarters,  it 
must  also  be  divisible  into  twelfths,  the  least  common  divisor  of 
those  fractions. 

(See  table  on  opposite  page.) 


ON    THE    STRUCTURE    OF    ATOMS. 


89 


Chemical  Sub- 
stances. 

Composition  of 
Molecule. 

Same 
Reduced. 

Atomic 
Weights. 

Same 
Reduc 
ed. 

Calcu- 
lated 
Sp.Gr. 

.069 

Ob- 
served 
Sp.Gr. 

.069 

Hydrogen, 

H 

H 

1 

1 

Nitrogen, 

N 

N 

14 

14 

.97 

.97 

Oxygen. 

O 

0 

16 

16 

1.1 

1.1 

Carbon, 

C 

C 

12 

12 

Chlorine, 

Cl 

Cl 

35.5 

35.5 

2.45 

2.44 

Phosphorus, 

P 

P 

62 

62 

4.28 

4.32 

Sulphur, 

8 

s 

32 

32 

2.21 

2.22 

Iodine, 

I 

I 

127 

127 

8.76 

8.72 

Ammonia, 

3H+N 

HH+iN 

n+7 

8.5 

.59 

.59 

2 

Hydrochloric 
Acid, 

H-M31 

iH+iCl 

l+17f 

18.25 

1.26 

1.25 

2 

Muriate  of 
Ammonia, 

4H+N+C1 

H+iN+iCl 

1+3|+8| 

13.4 

.92 

.89 

4 

Chlorous 
Anhydride, 

3O+2C1 

0+fCl 

16+23f 

39.66 

2.74 

2.65 

3 

Phosphorus 
Anhydride, 

P+30 

P+30 

62+48 

110 

7.60 

Phosphu  retted 
Hydrogen, 

iP+3H 

iP+HH 

154+H 

17 

1.17 

1.18 

2 

Phosphoric 
Chloride, 

iP+5Cl 

iP+HCl 

7f+44f 

52.4 

3.62 

3.65 

4 

Hydriodate  of 
Phosph'd  H., 

4H+iP+I 

H+iP+il 

l+7f+31f 

40.5 

2.79 

2.77 

4 

Hydrosulphate 
of  Ammonia, 

8H+2N+S 

liH+iN+iS 

li+4£+5i 

11.33 

.78 

.79 

6 

Carbonic 
Anhydride, 

C+2O 

iC+0 

6+16 

22 

1.52 

1.53 

2 

Anhydrous 
Garb,  of  Am., 

6H+2N+C+2O 

H+iN+^C+iO 

l+4f+2+5i 

13 

.897 

.9 

6 

EVOLUTION  THE  RESULT  OF  CHEMICAL 
FORCES. 


According  to  evolutional  theories  the  first  great  act  in  the 
formation  of  the  world  we  live  in,  was  the  dividing  off  from  the 
central  nebula  of  the  quantity  of  matter  that  was  to  belong  to 
the  terrestrial  quota.  This  apportionment  in  the  case  of  the 
earth  contained  some  sixty-five  different  elemental  gases,  of  ex- 
ceedingly varying  weights  and  properties,  and.  in  singularly  un- 
equal proportions.  Some  of  these  gases  were  more  than  two 
hundred  times  heavier  than  the  lightest  one,  measure  for  measure ; 
while  one  of  them  was  more  abundant  than  all  the  rest  put 
together,  and  others  were  present  only  in  mere  traces.  It  was  a 
strange  and  anomalous  mixture ;  yet  when  in  process  of  time 
these  gases  came  to  cool  down  and  to  consolidate  into  their  most 
stable  forms,  it  was  found  that  this  seemingly  chaotic  assemblage 
of  most  diverse  elements  had  really  been  apportioned  out  in  ex- 
actly the  quantities,  and  the  different  gases  had  been  endowed 
with  precisely  such  dispositions  for  uniting  with  each  other,  that 
were  necessary  to  make  up  a  solid  and  habitable  world.  Any 
material  variation  in  those  affinities  or  in  the  proportions  of 
supply  would  have  entirely  prevented  the  formation  of  an 
encrusted,  well  watered,  and  air  surrounded  globe. 

For  instance,  if  the  element  oxygen  had  not  been  both  the 
dominant  and  superabundant  material,  the  world  could  never 
have  had  a  hard  and  permanent  shell  about  it.  Oxygen,  so  far 
as  we  know,  is  the  only  substance  in  nature  that  could  have 
burned  up  the  silicon,  calcium,  aluminum,  magnesium,  and  other 
minerals,  and  laid  them  away  in  the  rocks  that  form  the  crust  of 
the  earth.  Silicon  and  carbon  are  two  elements  that  are  always 
classed  together  as  having  quite  similar  properties,  and  according 
to  all  analogy  their  compounds  with  oxygen  ought  to  have  been 


92  EVOLUTION    THE   RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

very  similar.  But  if  the  oxide  of  silicon,  instead  of  being  the 
most  solid  substance  in  nature,  that  is  quartz,  had  been  like  the 
oxide  of  carbon,  a  permanent  gas  at  all  terrestrial  temperatures, 
the  earth  could  never  have  been  a  solid  globe.  Calcium  and 
sodium  are  two  entirely  similar  elemental  substances.  But  the 
compounds  of  lime  are  durable  insoluble  rock  strata,  while  those 
of  soda  are  salts  and  alkalies.  If  calcium  had  behaved  in  any 
manner  like  its  compeer,  sodium,  the  earth  would  have  been 
covered  with  desolate  seas  of  caustic  solutions.  If  nitrogen  had 

O 

not  been  an  exception  to  all  the  other  elements  in  its  inert  and 
neutral  character,  if  it  had  united  with  oxygen  as  readily  as  any 
one  of  all  the  others,  the  world  would  have  had  only  seas  of 
nitric  acid  and  an  atmosphere  of  the  fumes  of  ammoniacal  salts. 
Thus  we  might  go  on  enumerating  a  thousand  other  contingen- 
cies, one  as  probable  as  another,  in  the  happening  of  any  one  of 
which,  our  world,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  could  not  have  existed 
in  a  condition  suitable  to  living  beings. 

Ages  on  ages  before  ever  there  was  a  drop  of  water  formed  or 
a  vapor  cloud  had  floated  in  space,  two  gases  existed  which  had 
the  property  or  potency,  under  certain  contingencies  which  up  to 
that  time  had  never  happened,  of  combining  together  and  form- 
ing the  substance  we  call  water.  They  were  two  out  of  sixty- 
five  elemental  gases.  They  had  no  resemblance  to,  and  no  prop- 
erty in  common  with,  the  vapor  of  water,  except  the  gaseous 
state.  They  existed  in  such  quantity  relatively  to  the  rest,  that 
when  the  time  came  for  them  to  combine,  water  should  be  one 
of  the  most  abundant  materials  that  were  to  result  from  the 
various  chemical  combinations.  IsTow  so  far  as  human  knowledge 
and  experiment  can  determine,  there  were  thousands  of  possible 
contingencies  against  the  production  of  this  substance  which 
apparently  alone  makes  this  world  or  any  world  inhabitable. 
The  union  of  oxygen  with  hydrogen,  instead  of  being  the  most 
inert  and  neutral  substance  in  nature,  might  just  as  well 
have  been  like  that  of  oxygen  with  sulphur  or  phosphorus  or 
nitrogen,  or  like  that  of  hydrogen  with  chlorine  or  iodine  or 
bromine,  powerful  and  destructive  acids:  It  might  just  as  well 
have  been  like  the  compound  of  oxygen  and  carbon,  a  permanent 


EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES.  93 

gas,  or  oxygen  and  any  of  the  minerals,  a  permanent  solid  at  all 
ordinary  temperatures.  The  chemical  union  of  hydrogen  and 
nitrogen  is  ammonia,  of  hydrogen  and  chlorine  is  hydrochloric 
acid,  of  hydrogen  and  sulphur  is  hydrosulphuric  acid,  and  so  on 
through  a  long  list,  all  suffocating  and  destructive  gases.  ISTow 
all  the  compounds  of  hydrogen  with  any  other  element  except 
oxygen,  when  they  do  freeze,  which  is  only  at  very  low  temper- 
atures, turn  into  solids  that  are  heavier  than  their  liquids  and 
sink  in  them  as  fast  as  formed.  So  likewise  all  the  compounds 
of  oxygen  with  any  other  base  except  hydrogen,  follow  the  gen- 
eral law  of  contraction  in  bulk  through  all  stages  of  cooling. 
But  water  when  cooling,  as  is  well  known,  commences  to  expand 
from  a  few  degrees  above  freezing,  and  the  ice  that  is  formed 
always  floats  on  the  surface  of  the  waters. 

I  have  stood  on  the  brink  of  the  great  surging  fountain  of 
liquid  lava  in  the  volcano  of  Kilauea  in  the  Sandwich  Islands, 
and  have  seen  it  quiet  down  and  freeze  over  like  a  lake  of 
water,  turning  from  glowing  red  to  black.  After  a  few  moments, 
in  some  spot  or  along  a  crack,  the  crust  would  begin  to  sink 
downward,  the  edges  of  the  huge  blocks  would  turn  up,  and 
then  disappear  in  the  liquid,  which  commenced  again  to  leap  in 
columns  and  dash  against  the  shore. 

If  bodies  of  water  froze  over  and  the  crust  sank  in  them  as 
the  lava  in  this  caldron  of  melted  silica,  then  all  freezing  lakes 
and  rivers  and  seas  would  turn  into  solid  ice.  The  inevitable 
final  result  would  be  that  all  the  water  of  the  world  would  accu- 
mulate in  solid  frozen  masses  in  the  regions  of  ice-forming 
latitudes. 

Water  is  in  all  respects  an  exceptional  product.  It  is  excep- 
tional in  its  abundance,  in  its  being  a  liquid  at  ordinary  tempera- 
tures, in  its  perfectly  neutral  qualities,  in  its  solvent  and  hydra- 
ting  properties,  in  its  constant  evaporation  from  liquid  and  even 
solid  conditions,  in  its  frozen  form  being  a  non-conductor  of  heat, 
and  above  all  in  its  expansion  in  freezing  so  that  ice  remains 
always  on  the  surface.  On  these  exceptional  facts,  and  especially 
on  the  last,  depend  not  only  the  well  being  but  the  possibility  of 
life  on  the  earth. 


94:        EVOLUTION  THE  RESULT  OF  CHEMICAL  FORCES. 

When  therefore  out  of  myriads  of  possible  and  to  all  human 
conception  equally  probable  states  and  conditions  of  matter,  only 
those  few  and  peculiar  ones  were  selected  which  alone  could 
bring  about  a  certain  result,  I  say  unhesitatingly  that  such  result 
must  have  been  forecasted  and  provided  for  when  matter  was 
apportioned  and  received  its  attributes.  I  claim  that  the  excep- 
tional qualities  of  water  in  its  various  forms,  subserving  as  they 
do  special  and  apparently  predestined  purposes,  are  an  unanswer- 
able argument  in  favor  of  design  in  the  original  constitution  of 
the  elements  out  of  which  water  is  formed. 

If  then  the  elemental  atoms  were  formed  to  bring  about  cer- 
tain purposes  in  inorganic  nature,  why  may  not  some  of  the 
elements  have  been  formed  to  bring  about  a  special  purpose  in 
organic  nature  ?  Why  may  not  the  successive  evolution  and 
advancement  of  life  forms  be  as  necessary  a  result  of  formative 
matter  as  the  successive  evolutions  of  the  cosmical  states  that 
have  finally  resulted  in  a  habitable  and  beautiful  world  ?  It  is 
my  purpose  in  the  remaining  part  of  this  article  to  inquire  if 
there  are  any  direct  evidences  or  reasonings  leading  to  such  con- 
clusions regarding  the  organic  kingdoms. 

Carbon,  the  base  and  substructure  of  all  living  bodies,  is  a 
highly  specialized  and  exceptional  element.  It  has  the  capacity, 
which  none  of  the  other  elements  have,  of  yoking  together  its 
atoms  in  bands  of  hundreds  and  of  taking  on  loads  of  some 
hundreds  of  other  atoms,  forming  the  exceedingly  complex 
molecule  of  albumen  or  protoplasm,  which  constitutes  the  vital 
matter  of  all  cells  whether  animal  or  vegetable. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  formulae  given  for  different 
specimens  of  albumen.  But  as  all  analyses  of  this  substance 
differ,  sometimes  very  widely,  it  is  necessary  to  suppose  that  albu- 
men is  equally  varying  in  its  composition. 

Lieberkuhn — Egg  albumen  C144  H112  K18  046  S. 
Win.  Gregory — Blood  albumen  C216 IT169  ~N^  O^  S2. 
Wm.  Gregory — Blood  fibrin  C298  Ilm  N40  693  S2. 

Sun-light,  acting  011  the  foliage  of  plants,  has  the  power  to 
lake  the  carbon  atoms  out  of  the  carbonic  oxide  in  the  air,  and 


EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES.  95 

to  build  them  up  into  those  wonderful  molecules  that  are 
laid  away  in  cereals  and  other  seeds  for  the  nourishment  of 
vegetable  germs.  These  substances,  variously  known  as  fibrin, 
glutin,  legumin,  &c.,  have  thus  become  veritable  reservoirs  of 
sun-power.  When  taken  into  the  animal  system  as  food,  they 
are  carried  through  the  digestive  processes  into  the  blood,  and  by 
the  blood  are  laid  away  in  the  muscles,  brain,  and  various  tissues 
of  the  body,  where  as  occasion  requires  they  are  burned  up  again 
in  the  oxygen  of  respiration,  precisely  as  wood  and  coal  are 
burned  to  generate  mechanical  power.  This  is  the  epitome  of 
the  history  of  all  vital  phenomena.  The  radiant  energy  of  the 
sun  builds  up  a  frail  and  complex  structure,  which  the  animal 
economy  tears  to  pieces ;  and  as  the  atoms  fall  off  from  this 
microcosmic  pile  in  the  living  organism,  and  yield  up  their  forces 
to  the  body  politic,  there  is  life  and  impulse  and  intelligence.  If 
it  were  not  for  the  unique  capacity  of  the  carbon  element  to  be 
thus  enormously  accumulated  in  the  electric  batteries  of  organic 
molecules,  there  would  be,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  no  possibility 
of  life. 

From  the  consideration  of  several  facts  in  chemical  physics  it 
is  reasonable  to  conclude  that  the  atoms  of  all  elemental  bodies 
and  the  molecules  of  all  compound  bodies  are  very  nearly  if  not 
exactly  of  the  same  size.  Equal  measures  of  all  gases,  no  matter 
how  heavy  or  how  light,  contain  the  same  number  of  atoms  or 
molecules.  A  cubic  inch  for  instance  of  the  vapor  of  aluminic 
iodide,  which  weighs  408  times  as  much  as  the  same  measure  of 
hydrogen,  contains  just  as  many  molecules  as  a  cubic  inch  of  air, 
oxygen,  hydrogen,  or  any  other  gas,  under  the  same  temperature 
and  pressure.  Now  the  law  of  the  equal  contraction  in  bulk  of 
all  gases  under  the  same  weight  of  compression  or  lessening  of 
heat,  could  not  very  well  hold  good  if  there  was  such  an  enor- 
mous difference  in  the  sizes  of  molecules  and  atoms  as  there  is  in 
their  weights.  Again  in  solids,  where  the  atoms  are  supposed  to 
be  nearly  in  contact,  there  is  a  very  considerable  correspondence 
between  the  atomic  weights  and  the  specific  gravities  of  sub- 
stances. Thus  aluminum  with  an  atomic  weight  of  27.5  and  a 
specific  gravity  compared  with  water  of  2.6,  shows  nearly  the 


96        EVOLUTION  THE  RESULT  OF  CHEMICAL  FORCES. 

same  ratio  between  the  two  (10.6)  as  silver  with  at.  wt.  108  and 
sp.  gr.  10.4  (ratio  10.4)  and  gold,  at.  wt.  197,  sp.  gr.  19.3  (ratio 
10.2).  If  we  take  into  account  the  comparative  bulk  of  such 
weights  of  substances  as  are  represented  by  their  atomic  weights, 
the  correspondence  is  complete' all  through  the  list ;  *  showing 
that  all  ultimate  particles  in  solids  occupy  very  nearly  the  same 
space. 

Now  if  it  is  really  true  that  the  last  divisions  of  matter  are 
all  of  about  the  same  bulk,  then  the  molecule  of  albumen,  con- 
taining over  600  atoms  and  weighing  more  than  6000  times  as 
much  as  the  atom  of  hydrogen,  is  not  essentially  larger  than  that 
or  any  other  atom.  We  can  thus  see  what  a  tremendous  amount 
of  energy  must  be  concentrated  in  the  exceedingly  minute  mole- 
cule of  the  substance  which  makes  up  our  lives.  We  can  also 
see  how  readily  may  be  explained,  as  for  instance  by  the  addition 
of  an  atom  or  the  change  of  place  of  an  atom,  the  infinite  vari- 
ations in  life-forces  that  are  necessary  to  account  for  all  the 
infinite  varieties  of  individuals  or  species  or  families  of  the 
organic  kingdoms. 

From  the  fact  that  all  organic  substances  are  formed  on  the 
same  complex  pattern  as  albumen,  with  carbon  for  their  base,  and 
that  the  nearer  to  the  seat  of  life  these  compounds  are  found,  the 
more  complex  they  are,  we  are  fully  justified  in  concluding  that 
the  remarkable  property  which  only  carbon  possesses  of  joining 
together  its  atoms  in  one  molecule  apparently  without  limit,  is 
the  true  cause  and  condition  of  life.  The  carbon  compounds 
that  take  active  part  in  the  life-processes  never  crystallize,  but 
assume  always  when  active  the  peculiar  plastic  condition  known 
as  the  colloid,  in  which  the  dynamic  forces,  whether  of  the  atoms 
in  the  molecule,  or  the  molecules  in  the  cell,  or  the  cells  in  the 
organism,  have  full  and  free  course  to  accumulate,  and  as  we  know 
do  amount  in  the  case  of  large  sized  animals  to  a  very  great  sum 
of  energy. 

The  constant  repetition  of  muscular  acts,  or  the  practice  of 
any  skill  or  cunning,  or  the  exercise  of  the  memory  or  the  per- 
ceptions or  the  reasoning  faculties,  become  after  a  time  habits, 

*  See  full  tables  in  "Miller's  Chemistry,"  Part  3rd,  page  957. 


EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

second  natures,  involuntary  actions,  and  instincts.  It  is  undoubt- 
edly true  tliat  many  of  the  effects  of  such  acts  and  habits,  and 
often  the  instincts  themselves,  are  transmitted  to  succeeding 
generations.  The  modifications  in  any  individual  caused  by  the 
habitual  exercise  of  any  functions  of  body  or  mind  will  most 
likely  be  inherited  by  the  descendents  of  that  individual.  This 
is  without  question  a  vera  causa  in  the  origination  of  variations 
in  species  as  set  forth  by  the  evolutionists.  But  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  disuse  and  atrophy  are  also  hereditary,  and  that 
species  often  retrograde  as  well  as  advance.  Indeed  as  far  back 
as  observation  has  extended  it  would  seem  that  species  in  the 
wild  state  have  deteriorated  more  frequently  than  they  have  im- 
proved. Therefore  the  principle  of  evolution  through  inherit- 
ance of  slight  changes  does  not  necessarily  mean  progress,  nor 
can  it  exercise  any  very  extended  influence  on  specific  characters. 
It  cannot  in  the  nature  of  the  case  serve  to  explain  great  struct- 
ural differences  where  there  are  no  intermediate  grades;  for  the 
first  axiom  of  Darwinian  evolution  is  "  Natura  non  facit  saltum." 
I  am  of  the  opinion  that  all  the  labored  evidences  and  arguments 
in  favor  of  natural  selection  and  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  prove 
nothing  more  than  the  application  of  these  principles  within  the 
narrow  limits  of  varieties  and  nearly  allied  species,  and  that  the 
great  advances  that  have  been  made  from  one  order  to  another 
and  from  family  to  family  are  yet  to  be  accounted  for.  These 
great  generic  steps,  always  from  a  lower  to  a  higher  standard,  are 
never  graded  up  but  always  bold  and  precipitate.  The  forms 
that  ought  to  exist  in  order  to  show  the  gradual  ascent  are  never 
found.  The  presumption  is  strong  therefore  that  they  never 
existed. 

Let  us  for  a  moment  make  the  attempt  to  apply  the  doctrines 
of  modern  evolution  to  the  explanation  of  some  one  of  the  great 
structural  transitions  from  one  genus  to  another.  Let  us  take  as 
an  instance  the  loss  of  one  of  the  toes  in  any  of  the  equine  series 
in  Prof.  Huxley's  famous  crucial  example  of  the  development  of 
the  one-toed  horse  from  the  ancient  Eohippus.  This  was  a  tapir- 
like  animal  about  as  large  as  a  fox,  with  four  hoof-toes  to  the 
fore  feet  and  three  to  the  hind  feet.  Its  remains  have  been 


98  EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

found  in  the  Eocene  or  lowest  Tertiaries  in  our  western  terri- 
tories. Professors  Marsh  and  Leidy  have  found  in  later  strata 
the  remains  of  other  equine  animals,  with  a  gradually  lessening 
number  of  toes,  increasing  size  and  horse-like  appearance,  and 
consolidation  of  the  double  leg-bones,  forming  connecting  links 
through  at  least  six  hippoid  forms  up  to  the  present  genus,  Equus. 

The  toes  are  got  rid  of  in  these  successive  forms  by  being 
withdrawn  upwards,  at  first  just  clearing  the  ground,  then  drawn 
up  into  what  are  called  dew-claws,  then  into  splints  on  the  meta- 
carpus, then  vanishing  altogether.  They  are  always  removed  in 
a  regular  prescribed  order,  in  this  as  well  as  in  every  other  case 
of  the  elimination  of  these  members ;  first  the  big  toe,  number 
one  ;  then  the  little  toe,  number  five ;  then  number  four,  or 
numbers  two  and  four  together,  leaving  two  as  in  the  ox,  or  only 
the  middle  one  as  in  the  horse.  This  regular  order  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  ungulates  precludes  all  possibility  of  chance  being 
concerned  in  the  operation.  Chance  makes  no  selections. 

The  fundamental  doctrine  of  natural  selection  as  set  forth  by 
Darwin  is  the  perpetuation  through  inheritance  of  slight  advan- 
tageous changes  happening  to  any  organism.*  These  must  how- 
ever be  of  sufficient  advantage  to  enable  the  possessors  of  them, 
by  reason  thereof,  to  run  out  and  supercede  all  the  animals  not 
possessing  them  ;  for  otherwise  the  peculiarities  would  certainly 
be  lost  or  merged  by  interbreeding.  Indeed  it  is  one  of  the 
great  mysteries  of  natural  selection  in  the  wild  state,  how  any 
slight  variation  happening  to  one  individual  is  preserved  for  any 
length  of  time  from  being  merged  in  the  common  characteristics 
of  the  race.  However  let  us  suppose  that  some  one  Eohippus 
of  the  ancient  eras  had  been  favored  with  a  slight  elevation  from 
the  ground  of  the  fifth  hoof -toe  of  each  fore  foot,  and  that  this 
peculiarity  had  been  successfully  transmitted  to  a  line  of  descen- 
dents.  Three  toes  then  touched  the  ground  when  running, 
but  the  little  toe  hung  somewhat  loose  and  failed  to  make  a 
track.  Now  can  it  possibly  be  imagined  that  there  was  advan- 


*  "As  natural  selection  acts  solely  by  accumulating  slight,  successive,  favor- 
able variations,  it  can  produce  no  great  or  sudden  modifications;  it  can 
act  only  by  very  short  and  slow  steps." — Origin  of  Species,  page  409. 


EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES.  99 

tage  enough  in  this  circumstance  to  enable  those  with  the  dan- 
gling toe  to  run  out  and  supercede  all  those  that  had  their  four 
toes  planted  square  on  the  ground  ?  And  then  how  many  varia- 
tions in  this  one  direction,  and  how  many  exterminations  of  the 
race  must  have  occurred  before  the  Mesohippus  came  in  with 
three  clean  toes  on  all  his  feet  ?  It  lias  always  seemed  to  me 
that  the  commonly  described  processes  of  evolution,  depend- 
ing solely  on  the  slow  accumulation  of  slight  advantageous 
variations,  were  entirely  too  inadequate,  and  the  chances  against 
their  continued  operation  in  one  direction  too  infinitely  great,  to 
make  them  worthy  of  any  consideration  as  a  part  of  nature's 
means  for  bringing  about  the  great  advances  in  organic  structure. 
It  will  be  shown  subsequently  that  this  same  process  of  evolv- 
ing races  of  one  and  two  hoof-toed  animals  out  of  the  five  toed, 
was  gone  all  through  with  by  another  and  entirely  independent 
order,  the  marsupials,  long  before  the  placental  mammalia  started 
out  on  the  same  course.  Furthermore,  at  the  same  time  that  the 
one-toed  horse  was  being  evolved  on  the  western  plains  of 
America,  precisely  the  same  development  was  going  forward  in 
the  Tertiaries  of  Europe,  with  the  Atlantic  ocean  rolling  between. 
The  Anchithere  found, in  the  Miocene  of  Europe  was  a  tapir-like 
animal  of  the  size  of  a  sheep,  with  three  hoof-toes  to  each  foot. 
The  Hipparion  found  in  later  strata  in  France  and  Germany, 
had  grown  to  the  size  of  the  ass,  and  had  the  middle  hoof  much 
enlarged,  with  the  side  hoofs  withdrawn  upward  and  no  longer 
serviceable.  Besides  the  fully  developed  horse,  these  are  the 
only  hippoid  forms  that  have  been  found  in  Europe ;  but  they 
are  sufficient  to  show  that  the  horse  was  independently  evolved 
on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  and  at  about  the  same  time.  It 
appears  then  that  this  slow  and  laborious  task  of  constructing  the 
most  specialized  and  valuable  quadruped  in  existence,  is  a  process 
that  nature  has  often  gone  through  with.  It  seems  to  be  one  of 
the  diverging  lines  that  development  is  obliged  to  take,  as  if  to 
accomplish  some  predestined  purpose.  And  it  is  a  little  singular 
in  this  connection  to  note  that  all  of  man's  useful  domestic  animals 
are  of  the  single  and  double  hoofed  varieties.  Moreover  it  has 
often  been  claimed  that  civilization  would  have  been  an  impossi- 


100  EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

bility  without  the  valuable  services  of  this  fleetest  and  hardiest 
of  quadrupeds,  nature's  common-carrier. 

When  we  look  back  over  the  various  geological  eras,  during 
which  the  earth  was  under  the  reign  of  different  orders  of  the 
animal  creation,  we  may  very  pertinently  ask  the  question,  why 
these  were  not  each  in  its  time  sufficient  for  all  the  requirements 
of  the  great  laws  of  food  supply  and  the  restriction  of  over- 
production ?  The  races  of  the  saurian  reptiles  ate  up  and  killed 
off  the  redundancies  of  population  as  effectually  as  ever  later 
races  did  it.  The  marsupial  families  that  succeeded  them  were 
abundantly  able  to  use  up  the  food  supply  of  their  age,  and  to 
keep  up  the  great  balance  of  the  producing  and  destroying  forces 
of  nature.  But  these  again  proved  to  be  on  an  unsuccessful  pat- 
tern, and  they  passed  away,  giving  place  to  the  quadrupeds  of 
more  recent  times.  These  possessed  the  earth  and  fully  filled  their 
spheres  until  the  tribes  of  mankind  appeared,  which  have  killed 
off  and  wasted  the  natural  products  until  pretty  nearly  all  balances 
are  upset  and  there  is  but  little  of  real  nature  left.  Now  what 
was  there  in  the  requirements  of  the  ages  or  the  laws  of  natural 
supply  and  demand  that  called  into  being  the  lowrly  marsupials 
to  take  the  place  of  the  gigantic  reptiles,  or  the  more  delicate 
placentals  to  supercede  the  pouched  animals,  or  finally  the  bipeds 
to  exterminate  the  wild  races  of  quadrupeds?  It  seems  to  me 
that  nothing  short  of  an  inherent  and  independent  principle  of 
advancement  in  the  races  themselves  can  explain  these  anomalies 
of  development. 

It  will  be  more  f ulljr  shown  hereafter  that  the  great  physiolog- 
ical changes  occurring  in  the  transitions  from  order  to  order  and 
family  to  family  of  the  living  kingdoms,  could  not,  in  very  many 
cases,  have  had  intermediate  stages,  from  the  fact  that  anything 
less  than  the  full  and  complete  change  would  have  been,  not  only 
of  no  advantage,  but  often  a  positive  detriment  or  cause  of 
destruction  to  the  organisms.  In  these  cases,  as  we  might  ex- 
pect, no  connecting  forms  have  ever  been  found.  It  is  as  if 
nature  had  made  a  leap  from  one  grade  to  another.  I  can  explain 
in  no  other  way  the  following  instances  of  great  and  apparently 
sudden  development.  One  is  the  transition  from  endogenous 


EVOLUTION    THE    KESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES.  101 

trees  like  the  palms,  that  sprout  from  the  ground  with  full-sized 
trunk  and  grow  only  upward,  to  the  exogens  like  the  pines,  with 
bark  and  external  rings  of  growth  that  often  increase  their  bodies 
to  an  enormous  size.  This  great  change  happened,  to  all  appear- 
ance, suddenly  in  the  Upper  Silurian  age.  LeConte,  in  describ- 
ing it  as  one  of  the  steps  of  "rapid  evolution,"  adds:*  "When 
all  the  conditions  are  favorable  for  a  great  advance,  the  advance 
takes  place  at  once,  that  is,  with  great  comparative  rapidity." 
Another  instance  is  the  transition  from  the  boneless,  soft-bodied, 
external  shelled,  invertebrates,  to  the  internal  skeletoned  verte- 
brates, with  an  entirely  different  nervous  system.  This  happened 
in  the  next  succeeding  age,  the  Devonian  ;  and  the  same  author- 
ity says  of  it :  *  " — the  advance  is  immense.  It  is  impossible  to 
account  for  this  unless  we  admit  that,  when  conditions  are  favor- 
able and  the  time  is  ripe  for  a  particular  change,  it  takes  place 
with  exceptional  rapidity,  perhaps  in  a  few  generations."  Other 
instances  are,  the  change  from  water-breathing  to  air-breathing 
organs,  from  the  fish  skeleton  to  the  reptilian,  from  the  oviparous 
orders  to  the  mammalian,  from  marsupials  to  placentals,  and 
so  on. 

There  are  definite  and  invariable  lines  of  advancement  in 
which  both  animals  and  plants  develop,  even  in  widely  separated 
and  independent  provinces.  All  over  the  world  are  found 
similar  and  nearly  identical  forms  of  life,  both  living  and 
extinct.  Considering  that  impassable  seas  cover  nearly  three- 
quarters  of  the  surface  of  the  earth,  it  is  simply  impossible  that 
all  lands  should  in  all  ages  have  been  so  nearly  connected  that 
species  could  pass  from  one  to  another  and  intermingle.  There 
must  of  necessity  have  been  many  centers  of  evolution,  either 
partial  or  complete.  Not  to  specify  others,  I  will  merely  take 
the  instance  of  the  two  polar  regions.  It  has  recently  been  very 
clearly  brought  out  that  life  began  in  the  arctic  zone,f  at  least 
as  one  of  the  centers  of  distribution.  But  as  the  climatal  and 
continental  conditions  of  the  northern  and  southern  hemispheres 
alternate  in  certain  long  secular  periods,  and  as  there  is  an  equal 

*  "Elements  of  Geology"  by  Joseph  LeConte,  pages  317  and  333. 
\"  Where  did  Life  Begin,"  by  G.  Hilton  Scribner,  1884. 


102  EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

necessity  of  accounting  for  the  existence  in  the  southern  temper- 
ate zone  of  life-forms  which  could  never  have  crossed  the 
equator,  it  is  rendered  almost  certain  that  the  antarctic  zone  was 
once  a  center  of  origin  and  distribution  of  animals  and  plants  as 
well  as  the  arctic.  Now  if  this  was  so,  the  two  sources  of  life 
must  have  been,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  entirely  independent. 
Yet  they  have  evolved  identical  orders,  families,  and  genera,  and 
in  some  cases  even  species.  Almost  the  only  difference  in  the 
two  hemispheres  is  that  the  southern  provinces  have  not  advanced 
in  their  indigenous  productions  to  the  same  grade  of  develop- 
ment as  the  northern.  Australia  for  instance  represents  almost 
accurately  the  life-conditions  of  Europe  in  the  earliest  Tertiary 
times,  South  America  the  later  Tertiary,  and  South  Africa  the 
Quarternary.  Now  who  will  estimate  the  probability  on  the 
doctrine  of  chances  of  these  hundreds  of  thousands  of  similar 
and  often  identical  life-forms  springing  by  fortuitous  variation 
from  two  independent  sources  of  origin?  The  chances  against 
it  are  beyond  the  limits  of  figures. 

All  evolutionists  have  seen  that  independent  centers  of  evolu- 
tion would  be  fatal  to  their  theories.  Consequently  they  have 
exhausted  their  ingenuity  in  endeavoring  to  explain  the  anomalies 
of  organic  distribution.  They  have  raised  up  sea  bottoms  to 
connect  continents,  have  created  imaginary  islands  for  migratory 
halting  places,  and  have  stretched  the  great  glacial  bridges  across 
the  equator.  They  have  been  seemingly  so  afraid  they  would  be 
obliged  to  acknowledge  a  supernatural  Creator,  that  they  have 
laid  out  miraculous  sea-voyages  for  animals  and  plants,  have  sent 
them  against  winds  and  ocean-currents  from  north  zones  to 
south  zones,  they  have  loaded  the  whirlwinds  with  vegetable 
seeds  and  the  feet  of  birds  with  living  embryos.  But  notwith- 
standing the  formidable  array  of  the  literature  on  this  subject,  I 
must  think  that  if  there  is  not  an  innate  tendency  to  progressive 
development  in  living  organisms,  something  that  compels  an  on- 
ward movement  along  the  entire  front  of  the  line,  we  might  as 
well  skip  Darwin,  Haeckel,  and  Spencer,  and  go  back  to  Paley's 
"  Natural  Theology ;"  for  this  is  the  latest  book  that  has  given 
even  an  intelligible  explanation  of  how  animals  and  plants  came 
to  be  what  they  are  and  where  they  are. 


EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES.  103 

The  earth  had  passed  more  than  half  of  its  life-bearing  age 
before  a  single  air-breathing  animal  had  appeared.  Up  to  about 
the  period  of  the  Carboniferous  formation  all  animals  had  lived 
in  the  water,  the  highest  forms  being  fishes  of  the  shark  type, 
undoubtedly  the  air  at  that  time  was  loaded  with  carbonic  oxide, 
and  the  profuse  vegetation  of  those  eras  was  needed  to  clear  the 
atmosphere  of  noxious  gases  and  render  it  fit  for  respiration. 
But  about  the  time  we  have  mentioned  the  record  of  the  rocks 
shows  the  appearance  of  an  amphibious  animal,  the  labyrintho- 
dont,  with  gills  to  breathe  in  the  water  and  lungs  to  breathe  in 
the  air.  It  had  feet  with  five  toes,  the  double  bones  of  the 
lower  leg,  the  shoulder  and  collar  bones,  in  short  all  the  essential 
parts  which  make  up  the  perfect  mammalian  frame-work.  It 
was  as  different  in  its  skeletal  structure  from  any  fish  that  then 
lived,  as  a  beast  is  different  from  a  fish  to-day.  The  skeleton 
of  the  first  amphibian  was  an  immense  advance  on  anything  that 
had  gone  before  it.  It  was  the  model  on  which,  without  the 
addition  of  a  structural  bone,  has  been  constructed  the  varied 
frame-work  of  all  air-breathing  vertebrate  animals. 

There  is  no  instance  in  the  development  of  vertebrates  above 
the  fishes,  where  any  structural  bones  have  been  formed  anew  or 
added  to  the  frame.  If  there  were  any  modifications  to  be  made, 
they  were  simply  changes  in  form  and  function,  or  more  often 
the  entire  elimination  of  certain  bones  or  members.  The  zebra, 
horse  and  ass,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the  course  of  ages,  by  dropping 
successively  the  phalangial  members,  have  finally  come  to  possess 
only  one,  the  middle  toe.  The  ox  and  camel  have  got  rid  of  all 
but  two.  The  normal  and  original  number  however  is  always 
five ;  and  man,  as  well  as  anthropoid  apes,  still  retain  the  full 
complement.  Therefore  every  species  that  has  ever  been  in  the 
line  of  man's  derivation,  back  to  the  primeval  batrachian,  must 
have  had  the  full  complement  of  structural  bones,  the  five  fingers 
or  toes,  the  double  bones  of  the  fore-arm  or  leg,  the  scapula  and 
clavicle,  and  so  on.  But  no  fish  that  ever  swam  has  any  of  these 
parts  in  any  wise  resembling  those  of  air-breathing  animals.  For 
this  reason  I  say  that  the  production  of  the  first  lowly  amphibian 
that  crawled  out  of  the  water  to  live  on  land,  was  a  miracle  in 


104  EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

animal  creation.  A  genuine  fish  could  never  have  developed 
into  it  by  any  manner  of  gradual  selective  changes.  What  bene- 
fit would  it  be  to  a  fish  to  have  simply  a  trace  of  an  air-breathing 
lung,  or  any  fraction  of  one  not  capable  of  sustaining  its  life  out 
of  water?  What  advantage  would  it  be  to  a  fish  gradually  to 
get  rid  of  the  numberless  little  bones  in  its  fins,  down  to  the  five 
sets  of  phalangial  bones,  or  gradually  to  develop  jointed  limbs 
with  double  bones  in  the  lower  parts,  together  with  collar  and 
shoulder  bones  ?  These  are  only  useful  for  walking  on  land,  and 
of  course  could  be  of  no  advantage  to  a  fish  until  it  had  lungs 
for  breathing  air.  The  two  developments  must  advance  pari 
passu,  and  neither  are  of  any  utility  until  they  are  both  in  large 
measure  perfected. 

This  amphibian  order,  the  first  development  of  land  animals, 
and  represented  by  some  gigantic  forms  during  the  Primary 
epoch,  seems  to  have  been  the  prolific  mother  of  races.  But 
nearly  all  the  offspring,  including  the  saurians,  the  lizards,  the 
flying  reptiles,  the  dragons,  the  duck-billed  monotremes,  and  the 
marsupials,  proved  to  be  failures  in  the  great  plan  of  life,  and 
after  a  short  but  widely  disseminated  reign,  either  entirely  or 
very  nearly  passed  out  of  existence.  From  the  very  important 
fact  that  every  family  or  order  of  the  quadruped  animals  was 
started  out  with  the  full  equipment  of  structural  bones,  and 
thereafter  in  its  branchings  immediately  commenced  to  eliminate 
or  to  modify  these  skeletal  parts,  I  think  it  amounts  almost  to  a 
demonstration  that  each  one  sprung  independently  from  the 
same  line  or  stem  of  full- structured,  undiiferentiated,  and  primi- 
tive animals.  This  line,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  could  have 
been  no  other  than  the  great  Carboniferous  order  of  amphibians, 
which  we  know  to  have  been  the  prolific  parent  of  all  the  earlier 
orders  of  land  vertebrates.  Consequently  the  few  living,  and  in 
all  cases  degraded  forms,  like  the  lancelets  (amphioxus),  the  mud 
fishes  (lepidosirens),  and  the  duck-billed  platipus  (ornithorhyn- 
chus),  which  have  been  so  often  brought  forward  by  evolutionists 
to  represent  intermediate  classes  or  links,  probably  never  had  any 
connection  whatever  with  other  orders,  but  are  merely  the 
vanishing  remnants  of  distinct  and  decaying  families — the  last 


EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES.  105 

relics  of  some  of  nature's  numerous  failures  in  the  world-stock- 
ing enterprise. 

The  first  departure  from  the*  egg-producing  animals,  for  it  is 
now  known  that  the  monotremes  are  oviparous,  were  the  mar- 
supials, which  bring  forth  their  young  in  an  exceedingly  imma- 
ture state.  The  mothers  take  the  little  embryos,  as  soon  as  born, 
in  their  mouths  and  place  them  on  nipples  inside  of  a  ventral 
pouch  or  receptacle,  where  they  remain  until  they  are  large 
enough  to  run  alone.  The  young  of  the  kangaroo,  which  is  an 
animal  nearly  as  large  as  a  cow,  when  first  born  are  only  about 
an  inch  long  and  quite  worm-like.  They  have  an  embryonic  life 
of  only  five  weeks,  and  afterwards  remain  in  the  pouch  about 
nine  months.  The  embryos  in  this  order  of  animals  never  have 
any  connection  with  the  circulatory  systems  of  the  parent.  The 
gestation  of  the  marsupials  differs  but  little  from  that  of  some 
few  genera  of  viviparous  reptiles.  But  there  is  this  great  ad- 
vance and  difference,  that  the  pouched  animals  nourish  their 
young  to  maturity  on  the  milk  of  the  mothers. 

A  most  singular  structural  peculiarity  is  found  in  the  just  born 
embryos  of  the  marsupials.  It  is  the  elongation  of  the  larynx, 
through  which  air  is  breathed,  across  the  throat  and  into  the 
nasal  passage,  where  the  end  of  it,  which  is  like  an  inverted 
cone,  is  grasped  by  the  membrane  of  that  passage,  so  that  res- 
piration can  go  on  freely  and  safely  while  the  mother  is  at  the 
same  time  forcing  her  milk  down  the  throat  of  the  helpless  little 
one.  In  all  other  mammalia,  including  the  mature  of  the  mar- 
supials, the  larynx  opens  into,  and  is  on  a  level  with,  the  bottom 
of  the  throat ;  but  it  is  protected  by  what  is  called  the  epiglottis, 
which  closes  when  we  swallow  and  prevents  us  from  choking. 
Now  here  is  a  wonderful  adaptive  contrivance  in  a  little  formless 
embryo,  the  only  thing  that  is  at  all  developed  in  it,  and  without 
which  it  could  not  live  a  moment  in  the  place  where  it  is  to 
mature.  How  will  modern  evolution  account  for  such  a  struc- 
ture as  this,  which  is  only  of  use  in  a  complete  and  perfected 
form  ?  The  whole  race  of  developing  mammalia  would  have 
choked  to  death  long  before  this  absolutely  necessary  little  device 
had  been,  by  any  slight  adaptive  changes,  made  effective. 


106  EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

As  soon  as  marsupials  became  established  in  the  animal  king- 
dom they  branched  off  into  the  different  lines  of  development, 
the  herbivorous,  the  insectivorous,  the  carnivorous,  &c.  There 
are  marsupials  corresponding  with  nearly  every  kind  of  quadru- 
ped that  is  described  in  our  familiar  books  of  natural  history. 
When  it  is  considered  that  undoubtedly  from  one  marsupial 
species  branched  off  all  the  various  tribes  of  the  pouched  animals, 
and  from  one  placental  species  divided  off  all  the  numerous  races 
of  our  modern  animals,  it  is  certainly  a  most  remarkable  circum- 
stance that  they  should  so  nearly  agree  in  all  their  ramifications. 

The  original  and  primitive  species  of  both  orders,  as  we  have 
often  insisted,  must  have  possessed  the  full  complement  of 
structural  bones,  because  derived  species  never  gain,  but  are 
almost  always  losing  skeletal  parts.  Therefore  we  predicate  a 
a  common  stem  for  the  two  orders,  and  that  all  the  branches  of 
each  order  descended  from  one  individual  or  species  of  that 
order.  Still  if  any  should  claim  that  each  species  or  genus  of 
the  present  order  of  mammalia  had  developed  out  of  the  corres- 
ponding species  or  genus  of  the  marsupial  order,  then  we  would 
reply,  that  our  point  was  gained  without  further  argument ;  for 
it  would  be  simply  impossible  that  so  many  animals  should  inde- 
pendently and  simultaneously  pass  through  the  great  change 
from  the  marsupial  to  the  placental  organization,  unless  there 
were  an  inherent  and  irresistible  tendency  in  the  race  itself 
toward  that  advancement ;  and  this  is  all  we  are  contending  for. 

'  O 

The  fact  of  this  remarkable  parallelism  of  species  in  the  two 
orders  was  brought  before  me  in  the  most  striking  manner  when 
visiting  recently  the  exceedingly  interesting  museums  of  Aus- 
tralia, particularly  that  of  Melbourne.  There  are  to  be  seen  in 
those  collections  specimens  of  marsupial  striped  tigers  and  spot- 
ted leopards,  marsupial  wombat  and  climbing  bears,  pouched 
foxes,  wolves,  native  cats,  bandicoot  rats,  leaping  rats  and  mice, 
marsupial  rabbits,  beavers,  weasels,  woodchncks,  porcupines, 
phalanger  squirrels  and  flying  squirrels,  ant-eaters,  vulpine 
opossums,  prehensile  tailed  monkeys,  and  many  others  that 
might  be  named.  All  these  are  of  living  species  of  marsupials, 
found  in  the  Australasian  islands.  But  there  have  also  been 


EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES.  107 

found  in  various  parts  of  the  world  and  north  of  the  equator, 
fossil  specimens  of  a  far  greater  variety  of  marsupial  species. 
Among  them  are  gigantic  skeletons  corresponding  to  the  hippo- 
potamus and  rhinoceros,  and  to  the  large  hoofed-animals  and 
insectivora,  to  the  giant  sloth  and  armadillo,  to  lions  and  the 
ape-footed  animals.  Thus  it  is  seen  that  there  were  at  one  time, 
spread  all  over  the  continents,  classes  of  marsupial  animals  filling 
all  the  spheres  and  presenting  all  the  similitudes  of  the  quadru- 
peds of  the  present  day.  Why  they  were  not  sufficient  for  all 
the  requirements  of  nature  and  did  not  persist  to  the  end,  are 
questions  which  natural  selection  does  not  answer. 

But  for  some  reason,  whatever  it  may  have  been,  the  marsu- 
pial type  was  not  found  to  be  entirely  satisfactory.  Apparently 
it  was  not  the  best  that  nature  could  do,  and  so  it  was  allowed 
quietly  to  pass  away,  and  another  order  of  animals,  with  im- 
proved methods  of  reproduction  and  a  better  quality  of  brain, 
was.  brought  forward  to  take  its  place.  The  distinguishing 
quality  of  the  placental  mammalia  is  that  the  fetus  has  direct 
connection,  by  means  of  the  membrane  called  the  placenta  or 
after-birth,  with  the  circulatory  systems  of  the  parent,  and  is 
brought  forth  in  nearly  a  full  state  of  development.  It  was  a 
great  advance  over  the  clumsy  arid  imperfect  processes  of  the 
marsupials,  and  it  was  at  once  accompanied  by  more  graceful 
and  symmetrical  forms,  by  larger  and  more  convoluted  brains, 
and  a  much  higher  standard  generally  of  animal  life.  But  not 
the  least  trace  of  any  intermediate  races,  or  connecting  links  be- 
tween the  two  orders,  have  ever  been  found.  And  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  conceive  that  there  could  be  any.  Either  there  must  have 
been  full  uterine  connection  and  sustenance  of  the  fetus  until 
mature,  or  there  could  have  been  none  at  all.  A  fractional  or 
partial  development  of  a  placenta  would  have  answered  no  pur- 
pose ;  for  that  would  not  have  sustained  the  fetal  life.  Any 
gradual  lengthening  of  the  period  of  gestation,  even  if  we  could 
conceive  of  any  means  by  which  it  could  be  brought  about, 
would  seem  to  be  out  of  the  question ;  for  what  possible  advan- 
tage could  it  be  to  a  kangaroo  for  instance  to  carry  its  unborn 
young  six  weeks  instead  of  five  ? 


108  EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

If  however,  according  to  the  theory  of  evolution,  this  most 
important  of  all  the  advances  in  organic  nature  was  worked  out 
in  any  way  by  the  hereditary  transmission  of  slight  advantageous 
changes,  the  great  question  comes  back  to  ITS  :  what  was  there  in 
nature,  or  in  the  environment,  or  in  the  struggle  for  existence,  to 
induce  or  start  any  tendency  to  any  such  change  ?  The  old  mar- 
supials  were  prolific  enough,  were  apparently  successful  with 
their  mites  of  embryos,  were  good  feeders,  well  balanced  in 
their  orders,  and  filled  satisfactorily  every  sphere  in  life.  Al- 
though a  little  dull  and  lacking  in  brain  capacity,  yet  they  were 
physically  a  powerful  race,  and  held  their  sway  until  the 
improved  order  came  fully  branched  and  developed  to  take  their 
places.  There  was  not  only  no  necessity  for  the  change,  but  no 
such  ad  vantage  in  its  first  stages  as  would  cause  them  to  be  selected 
and  perpetuated.  Yet  the  great  transformation  came,  according 
to  the  testimony  of  geology,  suddenly  and  unheralded,  just  as 
many  other  changes  in  ancient  life-histories  have  come.  The 
great  geologist  and  evolutionist,  LeConte,  has  been  obliged  to 
specify  this  as  one  of  his  "  critical  periods,"  when  life-forms 
were  subject  to  sudden  and  most  unaccountable  variations. 
Writing  of  the  era  of  the  mammals,  he  says:  "There  is  at  cer- 
tain geological  horizons,  a  rapid  and  most  extraordinary  change 
in  life-systems.  This  it  seems  impossible  to  explain  on  the 
theory  of  evolution,  unless  we  admit  periods  of  rapid  evolution." 

It  seems  to  me  very  much  as  if  these  grand  and  radical 
advances  came  because  they  could  not  help  it,  because  in  the 
great  plan  of  organic  life  the  times  had  come  when  it  was  neces- 
sary they  should  rapidly  develop.  Just  as  in  the  life  of  the 
amphibian  frog,  the  time  comes  when  it  must  lay  aside  the 
habits  and  organs  adapted  to  a  water  life,  and  take  on  the  full- 
boned  members,  the  lungs,  and  the  sense  organs  necessary  to  a 
life  on  land.  The  hairy  caterpillar,  with  a  mandibulate  mouth, 
with  cutters  and  jaws  and  stomach  for  eating  and  digesting  leaves 
or  other  vegetable  food,  after  storing  up  a  quantity  of  living 
matter,  goes  to  sleep  in  its  chrysalid  case.  In  this  condition  all 
the  parts  of  the  caterpillar,  the  mouth,  the  members,  the  organs, 
the  muscles  and  tissues  and  nerves,  entirely  disappear,  and  there 


EVOLUTION  THE  RESULT  OF  CHEMICAL  FORCES.       109 

is  nothing  left  but  formless  protoplasm.  Then,  in  this  rich  store 
of  formative  matter,  there  commences  to  develop  an  entirely 
new  and  different  creature,  with  a  suctorial  mouth,  a  simple 
stomach  for  the  nectar  of  flowers,  a  covering  of  gaudily  colored 
scales,  with  two  long  articulated  legs  and  broad  wings,  in  short 
the  airy  and  joyous  butterfly.  Now  to  my  mind  every  metamor- 
phosis of  a  larva  into  an  imago  is  more  of  a  miracle  in  organic 
development  than  the  rapid  transformation  of  a  fish  into  a  batra- 
chian,  or  an  amphibian  into  a  reptile,  or  into  a  marsupial,  or  into 
the  highest  mamalian  type. 

One  of  the  most  striking  instances  of  great  and  inexplicable 
changes  suddenly  supervening  to  the  animal  organization,  is 
found  in  the  remarkable  difference  in  the  sizes  of  the  brains  of 
the  highest  apes  and  the  lowest  races  of  men.  From  a  great 
number  of  measurements  and  comparisons  the  following  capaci- 
ties in  cubic  inches  of  the  crania  of  averaged  human  races  and 
of  individuals  have  been  estimated.* 

Finns  and  Cossacks,  98  cubic  inches  ;  Teutonic  (German)  family, 
94;  Esquimaux,  91;  Negroes,  85;  natives  of  Australia  and  Tas- 
mania, 82 ;  Bushmen  (Hottentots),  77.  The  following  are  some 
individual  or  exceptional  developments :  Cuvier,  the  naturalist, 
114  cubic  inches;  Byron,  110;  Napoleon  and  Webster,  108;  an 
Araucanian  (south  of  Chili  in  South  America),  115.5 ;  an  Esqui- 
maux, 113;  a  Teutonic  skull,  112.4;  a  Marquesan  (South  Pacific 
Islands),  110.6;  a  Negro,  105.8;  an  Australian  native,  104.5. 
The  skulls  of  prehistoric  men  that  have  been  found  are  of  the 
average  brain  capacity  of  modern  savage  races.  Even  that  of  the 
lowest  cave  man  that  has  ever  been  found,  the  Neanderthall 
skull,  is  estimated  at  75  cubic  inches. 

Now  for  the  other  side.  The  adult  orang-utan,  quite  as  bulky 
as  a  small-sized  man,  has  a  brain  capacity  of  only  28  cubic  inches. 
The  gorilla,  considerably  above  the  average  size  of  man,  estimat- 
ed by  bulk  and  weight,  has  a  brain  of  30  cubic  inches;  the  largest 
specimen  yet  known  had  34£.  The  proportions  average  as  fol- 
lows:  anthropoid  apes,  10;  lowest  savages,  26 ;  civilized  man,  32. 
From  these  facts  we  deduce  the  following  conclusions. 

*Dr.  J.  Barnard  Davis.  Philosophical  Transactions.  1869.  Pas:e  513. 
Alfred  K,  Wallace,  in  "Littdl's  Living  Ace."  1872.  No.  1410. 


110       EVOLUTION  THE  RESULT  OF  CHEMICAL  FORCES. 

1st.  Large  cranium  capacity  is  not  an  unvarying  index  of  high 
culture  and  intelligence ;  but  such  culture  and  intelligence  never 
exist  without  the  large  averages  of  brain  size.  The  case  is  like 
this:  strong  and  powerful  machinery  is  necessary  to  drive  the 
mill ;  but  if  the  power  is  not  sufficient  to  drive  the  machinery, 
the  mill  will  never  run.  The  capacious  brain  that  was  given  to 
the  human  race  from  its  very  inception,  so  far  as  we  can  judge, 
and  wThich  is  in  notable  contrast  to  that  of  every  other  large 
sized  animal,  was  a  machinery  that  was  absolutely  necessary  to 
the  wrorking  out  of  any  kind  of  civilization  ;  but  it  lay  dormant 
for  untold  ages,  and  only  awakened  in  these  later  years  under  the 
spur  of  over-population,  or  rivalry,  or  of  some  master  spirit.  In 
all  this  the  idea  is  unavoidably  suggested  of  the  original  endow- 
ment of  mankind  with  a  surplusage  of  mind  material — with  an 
organ  far  above  the  then  existing  needs  of  its  possessor,  and  de- 
signed for  use  only  in  long  distant  ages. 

2nd.  There  is  a  gap  between  the  brain-capacities  of  the  lowest 
or  most  ancient  races  of  men,  and  the  highest  known  ape  species, 
that  natural  selection  does  not  and  never  can  fill.  If  the  princi- 
ples of  Darwinian  evolution  had  anything  to  do  with  the  case, 
we  would  have  a  right  to  expect  that  savage  and  primeval  man 
would  be  furnished  wTith  a  brain  only  a  little  superior  in  size  to 
that  of  the  larger  apes;  whereas  he  has  one  nearly  three  times 
larger,  and  but  little  inferior  to  that  of  races  of  the  highest 
culture. 

3rd.  From  the  fact  that  whenever  an  adult  European  has  a 
cranium  less  than  nineteen  inches  in  circumference,  or  brain  con- 
tents of  less  than  sixty-five  cubic  inches,  he  is  invariably  idiotic, 
we  say  confidently  that  man  could  never  have  sprung  by  any 
slow  and  ordinary  evolutional  gradations,  nor  probably  by  any 
relationship  whatever,  from  anthropoid  apes ;  because  if  he  had, 
he  would,  with  lessening  brain  or  other  abnormal  conformation, 
according  to  the  principles  of  reversion  as  exemplified  in  all  de- 
rived species,  become  ape-like  instead  of  idiotic.  But  so  far  as 
known  there  has  never  been  a  case  nor  an  indication  of  any  such 
reversion. 

Throughout  the  whole  race  of  the  quadrumana,  both  living 
and  extinct,  the  foot  is  prehensile,  the  thumb  being  opposed  to 


EVOLUTION  THE  RESULT  OF  CHEMICAL  FORCES.       Ill 

the  other  fingers  as  in  the  human  hand.  In  man  there  is  a 
complete  change  in  the  bones  and  muscles  of  the  foot,  so  that 
the  power  of  opposability  of  the  large  toe  is  entirely  lost,  and 
the  same  is  the  case  in  the  most  ancient  races  that  we  know  any- 
thing of.  The  structure  of  the  organs  of  the  voice  in  man  is  on 
a  superior  type  to  that  of  the  apes;  yet  it  is  as  perfect  in  the 
lowest  savages  as  in  the  most  cultured  races  of  mankind.  In  the 
perfection  of  the  human  hand,  its  entire  freedom  from  all  loco- 
motive uses,  in  man's  erect  form  and  the  adaptation  of  feet  and 
limbs  to  that  position,  in  his  naked  and  sensitive  skin,  demanding 
clothes  and  houses,  and  finally  in  all  distinctly  human  peculiari- 
ties, man  does  not  approach  sensibly  nearer  the  ape-condition 
even  in  the  lowest  or  most  primeval  state  in  which  he  has  ever 
been  found.  There  are  not  only  no  intermediate  forms  between 
man  and  the  anthropoid  apes,  but  there  is  really  no  approxima- 
tion to  any  relationship  to  them  as  we  follow  back  the  line  of 
his  descent. 

The  great  cry  of  modern  evolutionists  is  for  "  lost  links  " — the 
great  complaint  is,  "  the  imperfection  of  the  geological  record." 
They  find  all  the  connecting  links  they  want  between  species  and 
perhaps  nearly  allied  genera.  But  when  it  comes  to  intermediate 
forms  between  orders,  families,  and  most  genera,  the  findings 
have  been  in  the  highest  degree  unsatisfactory.  Where  in  fact 
the  most  should  have  been  found,  there  is  really  found  the  least 
or  rather  none  at  all.  Intermediate  forms,  according  to  slow  and 
gradual  evolution,  should  have  had  as  long  and  as  prolific  an 
existence  as  any  others.  Therefore  the  fact  that  they  are  not 
found  in  the  geological  strata,  is  the  best  of  evidence  that  they 
never  existed. 

If  now,  after  presenting  the  outline  of  the  facts  and  reason- 
ings which  have  led  me  to  dissent  from  the  promulgated  doctrines 
of  evolution,  I  might  be  permitted  to  indulge  in  a  little  exercise 
of  the  scientific  imagination,  I  would  say  that  all  the  facts  and 
principles  of  the  growth  of  life-forms  would  be  readily  explained 
under  the  hypothesis  that  every  addition  to  the  combining  num- 
bers of  the  molecules  of  germinal  matter  would  necessarily  pro- 
duce higher  and  advancing  orders  of  organisms.  The  great 


112  EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES. 

complexity  of  the  carbon  compounds  in  the  life-centers,  is  quite 
certainly  one  of  the  conditions  and  causes  of  organic  growth. 
It  is  natural  therefore  to  suppose  that  the  more  complex  those 
compounds  are,  the  higher  will  be  the  development  that  proceeds 
from  them. 

All  the  higher  forms  of  the  animate  creation,  all  in  which  there 
is  any  principle  of  progress  or  variation,  reproduce  by  the  union 
of  two  sexual  elements.  There  is  thereby  added  some  mysterious 
force  which  starts  cellular  subdivision,  and  a  new  and  indepen- 
dent life.  The  constitution  of  the  fecundated  nucleus  is  most 
certainly  changed  from  the  type  of  either  parental  germ,  because 
an  offspring  is  formed  that  always  differs  more  or  less  from  either 
or  both  sources  of  origin.  It  is  then  altogether  probable  that  the 
molecules  of  one  sexual  element  conjoin  their  chemical  forces  to 
the  molecules  of  the  other,  thus  creating  a  surcharged  center  of 
forces  sufficiently  powerful  to  start  into  being  a  new  and  self- 
unfolding  life.  Then  whatever  combinations  of  atoms,  repre- 
senting either  parental  ancestral  or  original  traits,  prove  to  be  the 
stronger  in  the  two-fold  elements,  will  rule  the  subsequent  differ- 
entiations. Sometimes  from  such  unions  hare  sprung  remarkable 
and  often  valuable  race  varieties,  called  sports  of  nature,  and 
differing  from  anything  that  has  ever  preceded  them.  As  such 
variations  occur  most  frequently  among  domesticated  animals, 
which  are  in  exceptional  conditions  of  food  supply  and  freedom 
from  care  or  exertion,  they  may  perhaps  be  naturally  explained 
as  springing  from  some  extraordinary  increase  or  superposition  of 
atoms  in  the  molecules  of  the  impregnated  germs  which  pro- 
duced them. 

In  like  manner  in  the  geological  ages,  I  imagine  that  when  the 
suitable  conditions  have  come  about  for  a  new  step  to  be  taken 
in  the  grand  advance  of  life-forms,  nature  has  provided  for  it  in 
the  simplest  way  imaginable,  by  merely  piling  a  few  more  atoms 
on  the  enormously  loaded  molecules  of  germinal  protoplasm. 
It  might  naturally  be  supposed  that  a  higher  quality  of  food 
would  increase  the  formula  of  the  vital  compounds  derived  from 
it;  and  as  a  consequence  the  uniting  germinal  elements  would 
form  a  higher  combination  in  the  ovarian  nucleus,  thus  causing 


EVOLUTION    THE    RESULT    OF    CHEMICAL    FORCES.  113 

a  rapid  or  perhaps  sudden  advance  in  the  animal  organization. 
At  all  events  such  advances  have  always  come  whenever  changes 
have  occurred  in  vegetable  growths  giving  a  greater  supply  or  a 
higher  grade  of  nourishment  to  the  animal  kingdom. 

It  is  a  strange  and 'awe-inspiring  thought  that  on  the  inconceiv- 
ably minute  atoms  of  carbon,  was  impressed  the  power  of  forming, 
in  the  slow  progress  of  evolving  ages,  the  highly  organized 
beings  who  would  one  day  take  in  hand  these  infinitesimal  life- 
workers,  and  weigh  them,  and  reason  on  them,  and  endeavor  to 
find  out  in  what  manner  they  could  so  accumulate  their  wonder- 
ful centers  of  force  as  to  build  up  this  powerful  and  reasoning 
creature.  And  now  I  would  submit  the  question  :  "Which  is  the 
nobler  thought ;  to  conceive  of  man's  exalted  position  in  nature 
as  arising  from  the  God-given  attributes  of  even  the  lowly  car- 
bon atoms ;  or  to  regard  his  origin  and  growth  as  the  result  of  an 
infinity  of  slight  and  *  favorable  variations  that  gave  to  their 
possessors  in  each  case  the  upper  hand  in  life  and  enabled  them 
times  without  number  to  starve  out  or  kill  out  their  rivals  that 
did  not  possess  those  advantages  ?  To  me  it  is  not  a  satisfying 
reflection  that  each  one  of  our  ancestors,  near  or  remote,  has 
been  the  successful  combatant  in  a  deadly  struggle  for  existence. 
I  had  far  rather  believe  that  the  important  organic  advances  have 
been  made  so  rapidly  that  there  has  been  no  occasion  for  collisions 
and  rivalries  of  races.  The  improved  orders  have  come  upon 
the  stage  of  the  world's  progress  precisely  as  the  white  men  have 
planted  themselves  on  the  lands  of  the  dark  races,  and  the 
aborigines  have  vanished  from  before  them  imperceptibly  and 
unaccountably,  as  is  always  the  case  with  feebler  races  in  the 
presence  of  the  stronger.. 


THE   MICROSCOPIST   IN   BERMUDA/ 


Out  in  the  midst  of  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  directly  east  of  Charl- 
eston, and  over  six  hundred  miles  from  it,  or  from  any  other 
land  whatever,  lies  the  little  group  of  the  Bermuda  Islands.  It 
is  claimed  that  there  are  365  islands  in  the  group;  but  all  told, 
there  is  not  as  much  dry  land  in  them  as  there  is  in  the  corporate 
limits  of  the  City  of  Rochester.  A  mere  speck  in  the  wide 
waste  of  waters,  it  is  a  wonder  that  it  was  ever  discovered,  or 
being  once  discovered,  that  it  was  ever  found  again.  In  fact 
both  these  events  were  the  mere  chance  results  of  shipwrecks. 
In  the  year  1522,  Juan  Bermudez,  a  Spaniard,  was  wrecked  on 
these  islands  while  on  his  way  to  the  New  World.  He  was  glad 
enough  to  get  away  with  leaving  only  his  name  on  the  stormy 
Bermudas.  Nearly  a  hundred  years  later,  Sir  George  Sommers, 
on  a  voyage  from  England  to  Virginia,  ran  against  them  and 
suffered  shipwreck.  This  time  the  English  took  formal  posses- 
sion, and  have  held  them  ever  since. 

They  are  surrounded  by  dangerous  coral  reefs,  which  lie  be- 
neath the  surface  of  the  water,  and  on  all  sides  except  the  south, 
are  from  ten  to  fifteen  miles  from  the  shore.  These  treacherous 
shoals,  lying  in  a  wind-beaten  sea  and  in  the  track  of  the  high- 
ways of  commerce,  have  been  the  cause  of  innumerable  maritime 
disasters.  Some  of  the  best  fortunes  of  the  island  residents 
have  arisen  out  of  the  poor  mariners'  misfortunes. 

I  do  not  however  intend  to  give  you  either  the  history  or 
geography  of  Bermuda;  but  only  to  illustrate  some  scientific 
facts  and  a  few  microscopic  preparations,  by  its  singular  structure 

*  A  Lecture  written  in  1878.     Delivered  in  Canandaigua,  and  on  several 

occasions. 


116  THE    MICEOSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA. 

and  its  abundance  of  marine  invertebrate  life.  I  went  there 
with  my  little  pocket  microscope,  to  examine  among  the  curious 
and  interesting  things  of  the  ocean  shore.  It  was  almost  my 
first  lesson  in  microscopy,  at  least  in  the  preparation  of  micro- 
scopic objects;  and  my  story  I  hope  will  be  an  incentive  to  you 
to  study  nature  and  to  gain  knowledge,  wherever  you  may 
chance  to  ramble  or  journey. 

The  Bermudas,  in  latitude  32°  15',  are  the  most  northerly  lands 
where  the  reef-building  corals  grow.  These  little  tropical  ani- 
mals can  flourish  only  in  water  which  never  falls  below  the 
temperature  of  68°;  and  the  clearer  and  salter  that  water  is  the 
better  it  suits  them.  In  these  respects  the  Bermuda  Islands  are 
admirably  adapted  to  them.  For  while  it  never  freezes  there, 
there  are  also  no  fresh  water  streams  to  either  muddy  the  ocean 
water  or  diminish  its  saltiness.  These  animals,  belonging  to  the 
lowest  order  of  beings  that  are  provided  with  stomachs — the  so 
called  Gastrula  type — have  the  power  of  secreting  large  quan- 
tities of  carbonate  of  lime  from  the  sea-water.  And  although  so 
small  individually  as  to  be  scarcely  distinguishable  by  the  naked 
eye,  yet  by  the  enormous  increase  of  their  numbers  by  budding, 
they  are  able  to  build  up  barriers  that  inclose  continents  and 
make  islands.  The  branching  species  may  grow  to  the  height  of 
six  or  eight  feet ;  and  the  brain  corals  may  make  solid  hemi- 
spheres 15  or  20  feet  in  diameter.  These  extreme  sizes  however 
are  only  found  in  more  tropical  waters.  I  have  never  seen  them 
in  Bermuda  even  the  half  of  these  dimensions. 

The  reef  corals  do  not  grow  on  bottoms  deeper  than  one  hun- 
dred feet,  and  never  quite  up  to  the  lowest  tide  level.  So  that 
they  are  really  confined  to  narrow  vertical  limits,  and  would 
never  produce  appreciable  effects  if  it  were  not  for  the  fact  that 
nearly  all  shores  are,  in  the  long  course  of  geological  ages,  grad- 
ually either  sinking  or  rising.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that 
the  reef-building  corals  construct,  directly  from  their  growth,  a 
solid  wall  of  coral  material.  They  only  rear  a  forest  of  branch- 
ing stems,  into  which  the  waves  wTash  up  shells  and  bones  and 
broken  fragments,  which  are  all  cemented  into  a  solid  mass  by 
the  deposition  of  carbonate  of  lime  from  the  sea-water.  And  on 


' 


Plate  VII.— ARRANGED  GROUP  OF  DIATOMS  AND  SPICULES.     See  Page  xv. 
Magnified  65  Diameters.     Original  size  of  Group  =  O 


THE    MICROSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA.  117 

this  foundation  they  continue  to  build  as  long  as  they  are  un- 
covered by  the  lowest  tides.  Such  a  profusion  of  life  as  is  found 
in  the  coral  beds,  requires  a  constant  change  and  commotion  in 
the  waters  which  supply  them  their  building  material.  There- 
fore these  animals  flourish  best  in  the  fiercest  surf  and  on  the 
stormiest  coasts.  The  most  dreaded  of  all  the  sailor's  perils  lie 
always  concealed  beneath  the  most  tempestuous  waters  of  the 
ocean. 

The  theory  of  coral  islands  is  that  there  was  once  a  much 
larger  island — perhaps  a  mountain  or  a  range  of  mountains — in 
the  place  where  such  an  island  now  is.  That  the  reef  corals  then 
built  an  encircling  barrier  around  its  shores,  called  in  this  case  a 
barrier  reef;  and  that,  as  gradually  the  island  sank  into  the 
ocean,  the  corals  kept  on  raising  and  narrowing  in  their  reefs, 
until  finally  the  main  land  entirely  disappeared  beneath  the 
waters,  leaving  only  the  more  or  less  circular  reef  about  it.  As 
any  barrier,  thus  thrown  up  against  the  action  of  the  waves,  has 
a  tendency  to  accumulate,  and  to  raise  into  shore  lines,  the  sand 
and  shells  of  the  ocean,  so  there  is  soon  dry  land  where  those 
barrier  reefs  once  were.  There  are  hundreds  of  these  circular 
islands,  called  atols,  in  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Some  with  a  rem- 
nant of  the  old  island  still  in  the  center,  others  with  only  water, 
into  which,  through  a  narrow  opening  that  is  usually  left  on  the 
leeward  side,  ships  can  sail  in  and  find  a  safe  anchorage. 

This  is  undoubtedly  the  condition  of  the  circular  reef  about 
the  Bermudas,  except  that  the  waves  and  the  winds  have  made 
dry  land  on  only  a  portion  of  the  southern  line  of  the  reef. 
Outside  the  reef  the  bottom  declines  somewhat  rapidly,  and  in  a 
few  scores  of  miles  from  it  the  water  is  almost  unfathomable. 
There  are  further  evidences  of  the  gradual  sinking  of  the  islands 
during  geological  times,  which  I  will  not  stop  to  enumerate.  It 
is  pretty  certain  therefore  that  there  wras  once  a  larger  and  very 
different  island  in  the  region  where  the  Bermudas  now  are  and 
that  as  it  gradually  sank  into  the  waves,  the  reef  builders  kept 
working  in  and  up  towards  the  surface,  until  finally  every  vestige 
of  the  old  island  disappeared  ;  and  there  is  now  above  the  surface 
of  the  ocean  only  the  material  which  the  waves  have  washed  up 


118  THE    MICROSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA. 

on  the  shore,  and  the  winds  have  blown  into  the  hills  which  so 
beautifully  diversify  the  landscape  of  these  islands. 

Almost  my  first  excursion  was  to  the  long  stretches  of  sand 
beach  on  the  southern  shore,  about  two  miles  south-west  of 
Hamilton.  To  my  surprise  I  found  the  sand  there  composed 
almost  entirely  of  minute  shells ;  some  perfect  in  form,  others 
more  or  less  worn  by  the  action  of  the  waves ;  but  not  a  particle 
of  the  angular  silicious  grains  which  make  up  the  entire  body  of 
our  own  sand  both  inland  and  on  the  sea-shore.  All  there  was 
calcareous,  carbonate  of  lime ;  and  it  was  entirely  the  product  of 
animal  organisms.  Back  of  the  beach  the  winds  have  piled  up  a 
high  hill  of  sand,  which  they  are  gradually  rolling  over  on  the 
valley  beyond,  thus  giving  an  actual  example  of  how  all  the  hills 
were  formed.  I  examined  this  sand  in  many  places  and  found  it 
identically  the  same  with  that  on  the  shore.  On  the  way  back 
to  the  hotel,  I  examined  the  stone  in  the  cuts  through  which  the 
road  passes,  and  found  it  composed  entirely  of  the  same  shell 
substance,  loosely  cemented  together  by  a  deposition  of  carbonate 
of  lime.  Many  times  subsequently  I  saw  masons — or  carpenters, 
one  hardly  knows  which  to  call  them — sawing  this  same  stone 
with  our  common  hand  saws  into  blocks  and  pannels  and  cor- 
nices and  all  kinds  of  convenient  shapes.  It  did  not  dull  their 
saws  as  much  as  an  oak  board  would.  This  then  is  the  material 
of  which  the  whole  islands  are  composed ;  for  there  is  no  other 
kind  of  stone  found  there.  I  saw  also  the  same  material  which 
had  been  excavated  from  'fifty  feet  below  the  level  of  the  ocean, 
and  which  must  of  course  have  had  that  amount  of  subsidence 
at  least;  for  this  kind  of  rock  forms  only  in  the  air.  It  is  tech- 
nically called  ^Eolian  Rock,  from  ^Eolus,  the  master  of  the 
winds,  in  ancient  Mythology. 

I  ought  perhaps  here  to  tell  you  when  and  how  to  gather  this 
sand,  in  order  to  secure  the  most  perfect  shells  and  the  greatest 
variety  of  the  finer  and  lighter  spicules,  corallines,  &c.  Go  to 
the  sea  shore  immediately  after  high  tide,  when  there  has  been 
considerable  surf  coming  in.  You  will  find  that  the  highest 
wave  of  high  tide  has  left  a  little  ripple  mark  along  the  shore,  a 
mere  skimming,  not  an  eighth  of  an  inch  thick.  But  it  is  the 


THE    MICROSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA.  119 

gathering  of  that  tide,  fresh  from  the  ocean  and  all  cleaned  and 
whitened.  If  you  get  there  before  the  wind  has  blown  away  the 
lighter  materials,  and  carefully  scrape  it  together  and  bag  it,  you 
have  the  best  samples  which  can  be  obtained. 

Having  studied  thus  far  the  problem  of  Bermuda,  I  wras  now 
even  more  anxious  than  ever  to  know  the  names  and  the  life- 
history  of  the  minute  creatures  which  had  built  up,  with  the 
clothing  of  their  bodies,  a  beautiful  island,  with  its  mass  of  roll- 
ing hills.  By  far  the  largest  portion  of  the  shells  in  the  sand,  I 
found  to  belong  to  the  order  called  Foraminifera.  Foramen  is 
the  Latin  for  a  small  apperture ;  and  as  you  will  see  from  the 
specimens  shown  to  you  later  this  evening,  these  shells  are 
pierced  with  innumerable  little  holes,  some  of  them  not  larger 
than  the  ten  thousandth  of  an  inch.  But  through  these  holes, 
no  matter  how  small  they  may  be,  the  animal  pushes  out  parts  of 
its  body  in  minute  threads,  which  may  extend  to  several  times 
its  own  length.  These  filaments,  or  pseudopodia  as  they  are 
called,  are  both  feeding  arms,  and  means  of  locomotion.  They 
feel  around  for  food,  and  finding  it,  bring  it  by  their  natural  ad- 
hesiveness up  to  the  body  and  into  the  hole  in  the  shell  if  this  be 
large  enough,  or  if  not  they  envelop  and  digest  the  morsel  out- 
side. It  makes  little  difference  to  this  most  simple  of  all  living 
creatures  wThere  it  takes  in,  or  where  it  assimilates,  the  food 
which  supports  it.  For  its  whole  body  is  nothing  in  the  world 
but  a  little  albuminoid  substance,  just  like  the  white  of  an  egg, 
nothing  more.  There  are  absolutely  no  parts,  no  organs,  about 
the  creature  at  all.  It  seizes  its  food  without  members,  swallows 
it  without  a  mouth,  digests  it  without  a  stomach,  and  sends  the 
nourishment  of  it  to  the  most  distant  parts  without  a  circulating 
system.  It  moves  from  place  to  place  without  muscles,  feels 
without  nerves,  propagates  without  organs,  and  builds  an  ex- 
quisitely beautiful  house  without  a  vestige  of  the  senses. 

I  have  taken  these  tiny  specimens  alive  from  the  sea-weed  at 
the  bottom  of  the  shallow  bays,  and  placed  them  in  sea-water  in 
small  vials.  After  a  time  I  have  seen  them  climbing  the  sides  of 
the  vial  with  a  perfect  forest  of  little  threads  thrown  out  from 
their  margins.  They  had  evidently  realized  that  they  were  de- 


120  THE    MICEOSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA. 

prived  of  their  customary  food  or  supply  of  fresh  water,  and 
were  trying  to  get  out.  A  sea-weed  or  any  senseless  organism 
would  have  quietly  settled  down  and  died.  But  this  morsel  of 
structureless  protoplasm  has  the  same  feeling,  when  deprived  of 
the  proper  conditions  of  life,  that  an  insect  or  a  mouse  has,  and 
equally  tries  to  escape.  There  is  then  sense  and  feeling  in  the 
first  and  simplest  form  of  animated  matter.  ISTow  so  far  as 
chemical  analysis  can  determine,  the  body  of  the  foraminifera  is 
precisely  the  same  albuminoid  substance  that  fills  the  germ  which 
originates,  and  the  cells  which  make  up,  the  body  substance  of 
every  living  creature.  I  can  therefore  readily  conceive  that  as 
the  scale  of  animal  life  ascends  —  as  cell  is  added  to  cell  of  this 
already  sensitive  matter  —  as  organs  and  members  gradually 
appear,  built  up  so  variously  and  receiving  their  different  func- 
tions from  this  same  wonderful  bioplasm — I  can  conceive  that 
the  combination  of  so  many  myriad  batteries  of  electric  sen- 
sitiveness might  at  last  result  in  the  complicate  volitions  and  the 
high  intelligence  of  the  superior  orders  of  creation. 

Just  in  what  way  the  foraminifera  commence  their  little  span 
of  life,  has  not  yet  been  fully  determined.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
the  smallest  morsel  stricken  off  from  any  living  individual, 
would  go  on  growing  and  finally  develop  into  the  same  form  as 
that  from  which  it  was  taken.  This  may  in  some  manner  be  one 
mode  of  generation.  But  it  is  also  probable  that,  in  conformity 
with  the  law  which  seems  to  govern  in  all  the  lowest  orders  of 
the  animal  kingdom,  separate  individuals  become  merged  in 
some  way  into  one ;  and  then  the  entire  body  thus  united  granu- 
lates into  germs,  which  escaping  become  new  individuals  of  the 
same  species.  Every  shelled  foraminifer,  however  generated, 
begins  its  growth  as  a  little  speck  of  jelly,  around  which  it  de- 
posits a  layer  of  carbonate  of  lime,  leaving  one  or  more  openings 
for  communication  with  the  outer  world.  Then  when  the  body 
substance  has  grown  so  that  its  shell  will  no  longer  hold  it,  the  out- 
side portion  secretes  and  deposits  another  shelly  layer  about 
itself,  inclosing  the  apperture  into  the  first  shell,  and  leaving 
others  in  the  new.  At  the  next  stage  of  growth  another  or 
other  segments  are  added.  And  according  to  the  way  in  which 


THE    MICRO8COPI8T    IN    BERMUDA.  121 

these  successive  segments  are  added,  will  result  the  peculiar  form 
which  is  characteristic  of  each  species,  whether  a  whorl,  a  spiral, 
a  cone,  a  disc,  or  any  one  of  an  immense  variety  of  shapes. 
There  is  a  beauty  and  a  symmetry  about  the  foraminiferal  shells 
that  make  them  peculiarly  interesting  objects  under  the  micro- 
scope. Some  are  exquisitely  fluted,  or  dotted,  or  lined.  Some 
are  of  the  purest  white,  others  like  glass,  and  in  the  form  of 
most  beautiful  vases  or  bottles,  while  others  glisten  like  porcelain. 
The  curves  and  the  whorls  are  always  exceedingly  graceful,  and 
the  rulings  beautifully  regular.  I  have  often  wondered  what  all 
this  display  was  for,  when  there  were  no  eyes  to  see  it.  Why 
such  a  wonderful  geometry  of  curves,  when  there  was  no  mind 
to  appreciate  it. 

But  the  class  of  animals  we  are  now  considering,  derives  per- 
haps its  greatest  interest  from  its  past  history.  It  was  amazingly 
abundant  in  the  old  geological  ages.  The  nummulitic  lime  stone 
of  the  Alps,  which  is  made  up  in  chief  part  of  the  coin-like 
shells  of  forarninifera,  is  in  places  ten  thousand  feet  thick,  and 
extends  under  nearly  all  of  Southern  Europe.  The  building 
stone  of  Paris  is  from  its  quarries,  and  the  pyramids  of  Egypt 
are  made  out  of  it. 

The  Eozoan  Canadense,  which  is  the  earliest  trace  of  anything 
living  found  in  the  rocks,  belongs  to  this  class  of  animals.  It  is 
the  largest  of  the  foraminifera,  sometimes  several  feet  in  diam- 
eter, made  up  of  corrugated  plates  of  carbonate  of  lime,  between 
which  was  the  sarcode  body  of  the  animal.  On  the  bottoms 
of  the  earliest  seas  which  covered  the  still  warm  crust  of  our 
globe,  the  Eozoan  formed  immense  reefs,  which  are  now  the 
serpentine  limestone  so  abundant  in  the  Laurentian  strata  of 
Canada  and  other  parts  of  the  world. 

It  is  singular  that  this  simplest  of  all  animal  structures  should 
have  survived  without  change,  except  in  its  shelly  covering,  from 
the  earliest  dawn  of  life  on  the  earth,  through  all  the  long  eras  up 
to  the  present  time.  It  seems  that  evolution  and  the  survival  of 
the  fittest,  if  they  had  any  thing  to  do  in  the  matter,  could  find 
no  being  that  was  better  suited  to  live  on  shallow  sea-bottoms 
than  this  undeveloped  creature.  I  imagine  that  as  long  as  the 


122  THE    MICROSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA. 

same  conditions  remain,  there  can  be  no  material  improvement 
made  on  the  forms  of  animal  life  which  nature  iirst  provides  to 
meet  those  conditions. 

In  searching  among  the  rocks  at  lowest  tide,  and  in  protected 
coves  of  the  sea-shore,  I  found,  hidden  away  in  little  round 
excavations  just  large  enough  to  hold  them,  some  fine  specimens 
of  the  large-spined  sea-urchins  or  Echini.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
they  had  hollowed  out  and  enlarged  these  secure  homes  for 
themselves  as  they  grew,  for  I  never  could  get  them  out  without 
breaking  up  the  rock  in  which  I  found  them.  They  have  strong 
spines  all  over  their  round  shell,  and  strong  muscles  to  move 
them ;  still  it  would  seem  to  be  a  Herculean  task  for  them  to  ex- 
cavate into  the  solid  rock.  Yet  there  they  were  in  their  little 
round  holes,  so  securely  braced  in  that  after  pricking  my  fingers 
most  unmercifully  in  trying  to  get  them  out,  I  soon  gave  it  up 
and  resorted  to  the  hammer  and  cold-chisel. 

The  Echinus  in  its  development  is  about  midway  among  the 
invertebrates.  It  has  a  very  fair  digestive  apparatus,  and  a  little 
show  for  a  nervous  system.  Its  great  peculiarity  is  that  all  its 
parts  are  arranged  in  divisions  of  five.  Its  mouth  has  five  jaws, 
and  five  teeth  that  meet  together  in  one  point.  It  has  five  little 
red  eyes  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  body  from  the  mouth.  Five 
similar  segments  make  up  the  shell  in  which  it  lives ;  and  the 
plates  of  which  they  are  formed  are  five-sided.  The  shell  in- 
creases in  size  by  these  pentagonal  plates  enlarging  at  the  joints. 

The  test  or  shell  of  the  Echinus  bears  three  different  kinds  of 
members.  The  first  are  the  spines.  Of  course  these  differ  in 
size,  shape,  and  function  in  the  different  families.  For  instance 
in  the  Spatangoids,  which  live  in  the  sand,  they  are  spoon  or 
spud  shaped,  for  the  purpose  of  digging  away  the  sand  and  then 
covering  tlie  animal  with  it.  But  in  the  kind  we  are  describing, 
the  Echidna,  they  are  strong  and  conical,  running  to  a  point, 
for  the  purpose  of  wearing  away  the  rock.  They  are  as  beauti- 
fully fluted  as  an  Ionic  column.  Each  one  has  a  socket  at  the 
base  which  fits  on  a  little  protuberance  on  the  shell,  forming  a 
perfect  ball  and  socket  joint ;  and  a  set  of  external  muscles 
moves  the  spine  in  every  direction.  The  internal  structure  of 


THE    MTCROSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA.  123 

these  spines  is  most  remarkable.  Thin  transverse  sections  of 
them  make  exceedingly  beautiful  objects  under  the  microscope. 
Rays  from  the  center  pass  outward  through  successive  rings 
which  seem  to  mark  certain  periods  of  growth,  these  all  being 
formed  of  the  finest  net-work  of  calcareous  glass,  while  every 
shade  of  color  beautifies  the  pattern.  I  will  have  the  pleasure 
of  showing  you  some  of  these  at  the  close  of  the  lecture. 

But  another  set  of  organs,  not  less  numerous  or  wonderful 
than  the  spines,  covers  the  test  of  these  animals.  Alternating 
witli  the  meridional  segments  which  carry  the  spines,  are  other 
segments  pierced  with  minute  holes.  Over  every  two  of  these 
holes  there  is  a  fleshy  tube,  which  can  be  extended  to  a  consid- 
erable distance  beyond  the  spines,  and  at  the  end  there  is  a 
sucker  which  can  be  applied  to  any  surface,  and  by  drawing  on 
the  central  part  a  vacuum  is  produced,  by  which  the  Echinus 
pulls  itself  about,  or  climbs  the  rocks  beneath  the  water.  The 
holes  are  for  the  purpose  of  admitting  water,  which  the  animal 
forces  into  the  tubes  to  extend  them.  Muscular  contraction  does 
the  rest  of  the  work.  Considering  that  there  are  as  many  as 
five  thousand  of  these  little  elephant  trunks  on  each  sea-urchin, 
and  that  each  of  them  seems  to  be  under  separate  control,  one 
would  think  that  this  small  animal  ought  to  be  a  pretty  skillful 
operator  to  know  just  which  one  to  extend  and  take  hold  with, 
and  which  one  to  draw  in  and  to  loosen.  Yet  it  never  makes  a 
mistake. 

There  is  still  another  set  of  organs,  more  strange  and  wonder- 
ful even  than  the  two  others.  Scattered  all  over  among  the 
spines  and  tube-feet,  are  tiny  upright  threads  of  glass,  covered 
wTith  a  muscular  tissue,  and  surmounted  at  the  tops,  each  with 
three  minute  prongs,  toothed  or  spiked  on  the  inner  edges ;  and 
these  triangular  jaws  are  being  continually  opened  and  shut 
against  each  other,  snapping  and  biting  without  a  moment's 
pause  as  long  as  the  animal  lives:  They  were  for  a  long  time 
supposed  to  be  little  parasites  on  the  Echinus,  and  received  the 
name  of  pedicellarise,  which  is  the  Latin  for  the  louse  parasite. 
They  still  retain  the  name,  but  are  now  known  to  be  an  essential 
part  of  the  Echinoid  economy,  whatever  that  may  be ;  for  the 


124  THE    MICROSCOFIST    IN    BERMUDA. 

utility  or  function  of  these  snapping  members  lias  never  yet 
been  found  out.  We  shall  have  occasion  later  to  notice  very 
similar  organs  belonging  to  another  marine  animal,  and  to  speak 
of  their  probable  use. 

The  Echinus  produces  a  great  quantity  of  eggs.  In  many 
maritime  countries  they  are  collected  and  eaten  by  the  poorer 
classes.  Now,  what  is  very  strange  about  these  eggs  is  that  they 
do  not  develop  into  the  Echinus,  nor  into  anything  at  all  like  it. 
The  progeny  is  lively  little  creatures,  almost  microscopic  in 
size,  that  swim  about  in  the  water  by  means  of  cilia,  or  minute 
hairs,  on  various  parts  of  the  body.  Instead  of  being  five-sided 
like  the  parents,  they  are  two-sided  like  nearly  all  the  rest  of  the 
world.  They  have  two  eyes,  organs  in  pairs,  a  mouth,  a  big 
stomach,  and  eight  spiny  legs  projecting  downwards.  After  a 
time  there  begins  to  appear  on  one  side  of  this  creature's  stomach, 
a  flat  round  disk,  which  grows  more  and  more  dish-shaped,  with 
the  markings  of  five  distinct  segments.  Then  the  saucer-like 
disk  puts  out  five  arms,  then  five  clusters  of  rudimentary  spines ; 
all  the  while  gradually  enclosing  the  stomach  of  the  poor  Pluteus, 
which  now  begins  to  lose  its  legs,  its  mouth,  and  everything  else 
that  is  of  any  use  to  it.  Finally  the  parasite  completes  its  little 
round  shell,  makes  a  new  mouth  on  the  side  of  the  stomach  last 
enclosed,  discards  now  all  of  its  old  nurse,  and  settles  down  to 
the  bottom  to  begin  the  new  life  of  the  slow  creeping  Echinus. 

Here,  it  strikes  me,  is  one  of  the  strangest  transformations  in 
all  the  course  of  animal  existence ;  one  creature  producing,  in 
the  ordinary  course  of  generation,  an  entirely  different  being, 
perfect  in  all  its  life  and  parts,  out  of  which,  in  the  manner  of 
an  excrescence,  grows  the  parent  form  again.  If  here  is  not  a 
puzzle  for  the  Darwinians,  then  I  fail  to  appreciate  the  case.  In 
accordance  with  what  law  of  inheritance  is  it,  that  the  Echinus 
lays  eggs  which  hatch  into  another  order  of  beings?  By  what 
principle  of  the  natural  selection  of  variations  useful  and  advan- 
tageous, has  it  come  about  that  the  Pluteus  develops  in  its  vitals 
a  little  monster  that  literally  eats  it  up  alive?  That  a  stationary 
animal  like  the  Echinus  should  develop,  in  its  mode  of  genera- 
tion, some  means  of  more  widely  scattering  its  progeny,  I  can 


THE    MICEOSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA.  125 

very  well  understand.  Other  slow  moving  animals  accomplish 
the  same  purpose  by  means  of  an  intermediate  and  more  active 
generative  form.  We  shall  even  have  a  further  instance  of  this 
before  we  close.  But  in  all  other  cases  the  second  or  abnormal 
generation  is  a  budding — a  natural  outgrowth  from  the  first — like 
a  flower  bud  from  its  stem.  And  it  is  the  second,  like  the  flower 
bearing  its  seed,  which  produces  the  eggs  from  which  grow  again 
the  parent  form.  But  in  the  case  of  the  Echinus,  it  is  the  par- 
ent form  which  is  the  bud,  the  ova  producing  only  the  inter- 
mediary, or  the  nurse  as  it  is  called.  One  would  suppose  that 
if  these  slow  and  stupid  urchins  should  happen  to  produce  a 
being  livelier  than  themselves,  and  better  fitted  to  get  a  living 
on  the  high  seas,  this  latter  animal  would  repeat  itself,  perpetu- 
ating the  variation;  certainly  not  reverting  to  the  original  form 
in  the  clumsy  way  that  the  Phi  tens  does.  However,  I  ain  not 
here  to  settle  differences  among  the  doctors;  but  simply  to  tell  a 
few  life  histories  of  the  lowly  tribes  of  the  sea-shore. 

The  Echinus  has  several  relatives  which  live  in  the  same  waters 
with  itself.  They  are  however  very  strange  relatives,  being  in  no 
manner  like  it  in  external  appearance ;  and  they  would  hardly 
have  been  mistrusted  to  be  of  the  same  family,  if  they  had  not 
been  discovered  to  have  the  same  peculiarity  of  producing  ova 
which  developed  into  another  kind  of  animal,  out  of  which  they 
themselves  grew,  in  some  way  or  other,  like  parasites.  This  is 
the  case  with  the  star-fishes,  the  feather-stars,  the  crinoids,  the 
sea-cucumbers,  arid  the  worms  called  Chirodota  and  Synapta. 

These  latter  are  very  much  like  large  angle  worms,  and  live  in 
holes  in  the  sand  and  under  stones  lying  very  near  low-tide  mark. 
They  are  of  great  interest  to  the  microscopist,  from  the  fact  that 
in  their  skins  are  found,  in  great  quantity,  the  wheel  plates  and 
the  anchor  plates  which  make  some  of  the  most  beautiful  speci- 
mens of  his  cabinet.  The  anchors  of  the  Synapta  I  can  imagine 
to  be  of  some  sort  of  use  to  the  worm  in  making  its  way  in  and 
out  of  its  hole  in  the  sand.  I  have  held  it  up  by  merely  touch- 
ing it  with  my  finger.  But  whatever  can  be  the  use  of  those 
beautiful  wheels  of  the  Chirodota,  with  hub  and  spokes  and  rim, 
made  of  the  clearest  calcareous  glass,  and  laid  away  in  such  pro- 


126  THE    MICROSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA. 

fuse  clusters  in  their  skins,  I  have  not  the  remotest  idea.  I  will 
be  pleased  to  show  you  these  objects,  under  dark-field  illumin- 
ation, at  the  close  of  the  lecture. 

In  rambling  about  the  island  I  happened  one  day  to  meet  my 
friend,  Dr.  F.  M.  Hamlin,  of  Auburn,  K  Y.  He  was  in  the 
outlet  of  Harrington  Sound,  in  his  high  rubber  boots,  searching 
for  the  rare  little  bird's-head  Polyzoa,  the  Avicularia.  On  the 
sides  or  the  exposed  under  surfaces  of  rocks  where  some  strong 
tide  current  runs  almost  continually,  will  sometimes  be  found 
these  little  animal  clusters  attached  and  growing  like  a  tiny 
bunch  of  sea-weed.  Later  at  his  room  we  had  some  of  these 
objects  under  the  microscope  while  still  living  and  disporting  in 
their  native  element.  I  do  not  think  I  have  ever  seen  a  more 
interesting  sight  than  they  presented  when  magnified  by  a  low- 
power  objective.  Every  branch  of  the  shining  white  tuft  was 
swaying  and  instinct  with  animal  life.  One  above  another  on  all 
sides  of  the  stems  were  perched  the  little  sea-anemones,  with 
their  vases  of  bright  colored  tentacles  searching  about  in  the 
water.  Over  the  side  of  each  polyp  cup  and  about  half-way 
down,  was  loosely  attached  a  miniature  condor's  head,  slowly 
nodding  and  at  the  same  time  snapping  its  enormous  jaws  with 
savage  spitefulness.  Without  a  moment's  respite,  and  withoiit 
any  apparent  connection  with  the  animal  within  the  cup,  these 
singular  appendages  keep  up  their  mimic  show  of  battle  as  long 
as  there  is  life  in  the  cell  which  they  seem  to  guard.  "Whatever 
can  be  the  use  or  office  of  these  strange  members  of  the  com- 
munity, it  is  very  difficult  to  determine.  They  are  too  far 
removed  and  too  clumsily  large  to  be  purveyors  of  food  for 
their  host.  However,  that  they  subserve  some  important  purpose 
is  quite  certain  ;  for  there  are  no  useless  members  or  wasted  func- 
tions in  the  animal  economy.  Several  observers  have  noticed 
that  when  these  formidable  jaws  have  happened  to  seize  some 
passing  object  like  a  minute  crustacean,  they  have  held  on  to  it 
with  a  death  grip.  So  it  has  been  conjectured  that  the  office  of 
the  bird's-head  attachments  was  to  catch  animal  prey  and  to  hold 
it  until  it  died  and  its  decaying  body  brought  around  those 
swarms  of  infusoria  which  are  always  present  to  feed  upon  de- 


THE    MICKOSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA.  127 

composing  matter ;  and  that  these  minute  creatures,  which  are  in 
reality  the  peculiar  food  of  the  polyzoa,  are  drawn  into  the  mahl- 
strom  which  the  tentacles  are  continually  creating  in  the  immed- 
iate vicinity.  If  this  is  the  true  explanation,  and  it  seems 
somewhat  probable,  we  have  here  a  strange  and  altogether  anom- 
alous provision  for  the  feeding  of  these  ever  stationary  colonies. 
The  question  then  naturally  arises  :  how  came  these  singular 
members  to  be  jointed  to  the  cells  of  certain  genera  of  Polyzoa, 
and  to  be  endowed  with  the  instinct  of  catching  prey  that  their 
masters  never  ate? 

The  general  theory  of  evolution  is  that  an  organism  lays  hold 
of  all  the  slight  modifications  of  structure  which  are  in  anywise 
useful  to  it,  and  by  perpetuating  them  through  inheritance, 
eventually  comes  to  possess  the  perfected  organs  or  peculiarities. 
But  in  the  case  we  have  presented,  you  will  doubtless  agree  with 
me  that  nothing  less  than  a  perfect  seizing  instrument  and  a  fully 
acquired  habit  of  holding  on  to  its  captures  until  they  died  and 
decomposed,  would  be  of  any  use  at  all  to  the  polyzoan  animal. 
There  can  be  no  intermediate  links — no  less  useful  processes  for 
natural  selection  to  lay  hold  of.  We  must  therefore  suppose  that 
these  remarkable  appendages  sprouted  out  at  once  and  all  perfect, 
as  a  sport  of  nature;  or  else  that  they  grew  upon  the  animal 
without  cause  or  provocation.  For  myself  I  hold  to  the  opinion 
that  we  have  not  yet  begun  to  fathom  the  depth  of  nature's  plans 
in  the  matter  of  perfecting  its  great  families  and  orders  of 
organisms. 

There  is  often  thrown  upon  the  sea  shore  some  matted  tufts  of 
fibers  which  look  like  clusters  of  fine  sea-mosses.  But  the  micro- 
scope shows  at  once  that  they  are  of  animal  origin  and  built  up 
by  the  budding  out  of  successive  polyp-like  animals  one  above 
the  other.  They  have  much  the  appearance  of  the  Polyzoa  just 
described,  but  are  built  up  on  a  larger  and  coarser  pattern,  and 
are  really  of  an  entirely  different  family.  They  are  the  Hydro- 
zoa,  nearly  at  the  bottom  of  the  scale  of  animal  life,  with  a 
simple  sack  stomach,  and  scarcely  another  organized  structure  in 
their  systems.  But  they  exhibit  in  their  manner  of  reproduction 
the  most  characteristic  example  of  what  is  called  the  alternation 


128  THE    MICK08COPIST    IN    BERMUDA. 

of  generation ;  and  it  is  for  that  reason  that  I  bring  them  for- 
ward. Certain  buds  of  this  plant-like  organism,  instead  of 
growing  as  usual  into  feeding  members  of  the  colony,  become 
cells  or  capsules  in  which  are  formed  and  sent  out  one  after 
another  little  animals  bearing  not  the  slightest  resemblance  to 
the  hydroid  polyps.  In  fact  they  are  jelly  fishes,  medusae,  those 
inert  umbrella-shaped  masses  of  jelly  which  we  have  all  seen 
lazily  floating  about  in  the  sea,  or  lying  stranded  on  the  shore. 
Of  course  there  has  been  a  rapid  and  perfectly  enormous  growth 
between  the  microscopic  forms  first  produced  and  the  jelly  fishes 
as  we  have  seen  them.  After  attaining  this  growth  and  maturity, 
the  medusee  produce  what  are  called  ciliated  gemmules,  which  are 
simply  hatched  eggs  provided  with  vibratile  cilia.  By  means 
of  these  swimming  hairs  the  embryos  move  about  in  the  water, 
but  finally  settle  to  the  bottom,  become  attached  to  some  shell  or 
rock,  and  grow  into  perfect  Hydra  with  tentacles  and  horny 
cups,  from  which  other  polyps  bud  off  until  we  have  again  the 
plant-like  tuft  from  which  we  started. 

All  the  numerous  individuals  of  a  hydroid  colony  are  connected 
to  a  common  alimentary  canal  running  through  the  center  of  all 
the  branches.  There  is  therefore  but  one  animal,  though  having 
many  heads,  like  the  fabled  Hydra  from  which  its  name  is 
derived.  Constructed  on  one  of  the  simplest  plans  of  nature, 
with  only  its  feeding  arms,  and  a  stomach  common  to  the  whole 
community,  fixed  for  life  to  its  permanent  base,  this  creature, 
apparently  so  un cared  for,  at  the  proper  season,  like  the  tree 
which  it  simulates,  pushes  out  a  profusion  of  flower  buds,  from 
which  it  detaches  the  flowrets  one  after  another  and  sends  them 
forth  to  bear  seed  and  to. disseminate  far  and  wide  its  progeny. 
All  its  needs  are  thus  wonderfully  provided  for.  But  it  is  at  the 
cost  of  operating  almost  a  biological  miracle.  For  an  animal  of 
one  form  and  habit  and  life  has  begotten  another  of  totally  dif- 
ferent form  and  habit  and  life ;  and  this  one  after  swelling  to 
enormous  proportions  and  voyaging  the  ocean  for  a  time  like  a 
water  baloon,  has  finally  produced — not  its  like,  nor  anything 
resembling  itself — but  a  brood  of  little  insignificant  polyps,  that 
take  root  and  vegetate  like  the  lowest  things  that  live. 


8. 


THE    MICBOSCOPIST    IN    BERMUDA.  129 

It  is  not  however  the  case  that  all  the  Hydrozoa  produce  free- 
swi mining  medusae  ;  for  instance  this  Sertularia,  which  I  will  show 
you  later  under  the  microscope  with  its  beautiful  white-beaded 
reproductive  capsules,  retains  the  generative  medusoid  forms 
within  these  capsules,  and  emits  only  the  ciliated  gem  mules  which 
are  produced  from  them.  On  the  other  hand  some  of  the 
medusae  do  not  generate  the  branching  Hydrozoa.  There  seem 
to  be  all  gradations  in  the  relations  between  these  two  kinds  of 
beings.  And  it  is  a  matter  of  surprise,  seeing  that  the  connec- 
tion is  not  necessary  either  to  one  or  the  other,  that  natural 
selection,  if  it  operated  at  all  between  them,  has  not  long  ago 
dissolved  all  connection  whatever. 

But  I  have  not  time  to  describe  more  of  the  marvels  of  the 
marine  invertebrate  kingdom.  To  me  it  is  by  far  the  most  in- 
teresting province  of  natural  history.  The  world  had  passed 
more  than  half  of  its  living  age  before  animals  began  to  have  a 
bony  skeleton.  The  fishes  of  the  Devonian  strata,  which  is  the 
formation  next  below  the  coal  measures,  were  the  first  creatures 
that  possessed  anything  like  a  bony  structure.  All  the  animals 
before  these  were  invertebrates ;  and  they  abounded  and  held 
sway  while  the  sea  was  depositing  in  places  ten  miles  of  the 
thickness  of  the  earth's  crust.  All  the  rocks  that  are  below  us 
where  we  are  to  night,  were  formed  before  ever  there  was  a  ver- 
tebrated  animal  in  existence.  The  invertebrates  belong  then  to 
the  most  ancient  families  of  the  world.  They  are  the  last  sur- 
viving representatives  of  the  oldest  inhabitants.  While  all  the 
higher  races  have  been  progressing  from  grade  to  grade,  these 
have  always  remained  the  same,  except  in  a  few  changes  of  dress 
and  externals. 

They  tell  us  of  the  prevailing  conditions  of  life  in  the  earliest 
geological  ages ;  for  the  spheres  they  filled  and  were  adapted  to 
then,  are  the  restricted  spheres  they  fill  and  are  best  adapted  to 
now.  The  same  environments  have  followed  them  down  in  their 
gradually  diminishing  numbers  from  the  Silurian  age  to  the 
present  time.  They  tell  us  of  the  earliest  fashions  of  growth 
and  of  reproduction  ;  when  animals  budded  and  sprouted  like 
plants  ;  when  instead  of  pairs,  it  took  triplets  to  carry  out  the 
great  behest  "  to  go  forth  and  replenish  the  earth." 


130  THE   MICROSCOPIST   IN   BERMUDA. 

They  flourished  in  the  ages  before  man  was  formed ;  before 
the  beasts  of  the  field,  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and  the  great  whales 
were  created ;  before  the  earth  brought  forth  grass  and  the  herb 
yielding  seed  and  the  tree  yielding  fruit  after  his  kind ;  before 
the  waters  were  gathered  together  and  the  dry  land  appeared. 
There  is  no  day  set  apart  for  the  creation  of  these  lowly  tribes. 
Yet  they  had  the  seas  all  to  themselves  for  a  period  longer  than 
four  of  the  creative  eras,  and  have  had  more  to  do  with  bringing 
the  land  to  the  surface  of  the  waters  than  any  other  agency. 
They  were  the  silent  workers  at  the  marbles  and  the  limestones 
while  shoreless  oceans  covered  all  the  earth. 


MICROSCOPICAL  COLLECTIONS  IN  FLORIDA.* 


It  has  been  my  fortune  during  the  past  two  winters  to  spend  a 
few  weeks  in  the  regions  of  central  Florida.  Lake  Harris  is  the 
most  southern  and  the  most  beautiful  of  the  cluster  of  lakes 
which  forms  the  source  of  that  exceedingly  picturesque  river,  the 
Ocklawaha.  With  high  banks,  and  surrounded  by  a  belt  of 
hummock  land  as  rich  as  any  that  Florida  affords,  this  lake  is  be- 
coming settled  upon,  and  its  lands  are  fast  being  taken  up  by 
enterprising  southerners  for  orange-groves  and  pine-apple  plan- 
tations. The  sojourner  will  find  the  society  of  this  lake-settle- 
ment intelligent  and  hospitable  beyond  anything  that  would  be 
expected  in  so  new  and  pioneer  a  country.  The  vegetation  of 
this  almost  tropical  region  is  so  full  of  interest  to  the  microsco- 
pist,  and  the  causes  conducing  thereto  so  peculiar,  that  I  have 
thought  them  deserving  of  especial  mention  and  illustration. 

The  absence,  or  at  least  the  rarity  of  frosts  injurious  to  vege- 
tation in  these  lake  districts,  gives  the  longest  possible  season  for 
the  growth  and  maturity  of  such  organs  as  are  best  or  especially 
adapted  to  the  exigencies  of  Florida  plants.  There  is  a  period 
of  rest,  usually  comprising  about  the  three  winter  months,  after 
which  vegetation  takes  up  and  continues  its  growth  again  as  if 
there  had  been  no  period  of  interruption ;  so  that  practically 
there  is  a  continuous  development  of  plant  life,  whether  annual 
or  perennial,  from  birth  to  death. 

The  soil  of  Florida,  as  of  all  the  South-Atlantic  sea-board,  is 
sandy  and  naturally  barren.  ~No  polar  glaciers  have  ground  up 

*  A  Paper  read  at  the  Boston  meeting  of  The  American  Association  for  the 
Advancement  of  Science  (August,  1880);  and  published  in  its  proceedings; 
also  in  American  Monthly  Microscopical  Journal,  October,  1880. 


132  MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA. 

for  these  regions,  as  for  the  Northern  States,  a  rich  and  abundant 
alluvium,  sufficient  in  itself  for  the  production  of  a  rapid  and 
vigorous  vegetation.  The  South  has  apparently  only  the  siftings 
of  our  northern  soil,  carried  down  to  the  ocean  by  rivers,  and 
then  washed  up  by  the  sea-waves  to  form  its  interminable 
sandy  plains.  But  to  compensate  for  this  natural  infertility  of 
soil,  the  atmosphere,  especially  of  southern  Florida,  abounds  in 
all  the  elements  of  plant  growth.  The  winds  which  come  up 
from  the  Gulf  on  one  side,  or  the  Atlantic  on  the  other,  are 
charged  with  moisture,  and  bear  also  minute  quantities  of  nitric 
acid  and  saline  compounds ;  while  the  exhalations  from  the 
swamps  and  marshes  furnish  in  abundance  the  salts  of  ammonia 
and  carbonic  oxide. 

Now  to  utilize  these  precious  products  from  the  air,  it  is  nec- 
essary for  plants  to  have  peculiar  organs,  such  as  absorbing 
glands,  glandular  hairs,  stellate  hairs,  protecting  scales,  and  a 
variety  of  other  special  appendages.  All  these  have  been  devel- 
oped by  time  and  necessity  in  remarkable  profusion  and  perfec- 
tion in  the  vegetation  of  southern  Florida.  Although  the 
meagre  soil  produces  no  nutritious  grasses  and  scarcely  enough 
of  an  honest  vegetation  to  keep  an  herbivorous  animal  from 
starving,  yet  there  is  an  abundant  flora  such  as  it  is — air  plants, 
parasitic  growths,  insectivorous  plants,  and  strange  herbs,  all 
seeking  a  livelihood  in  some  other  way  than  the  good  old  honest 
one  of  growing  from  their  roots.  It  is  this  fact  which  makes  the 
microscopical  interest  of  botanical  researches  in  central  Florida. 
One  can  scarcely  examine  with  a  two-thirds  objective  the  flowers, 
leaves,  or  stems  of  any  plant  growing  there,  without  discovering 
some  beautiful  or  striking  modification  of  plant  hairs,  or  scales, 
or  glands,  or  other  absorbing  or  secreting  organs. 

We  will  notice  first  the  Onosmodium  as  found  in  Florida—  O. 
mrginianum.  It  grows  from  Virginia  south,  but  is  more  gland- 
ular I  think  in  Florida  than  anywhere  else.  It  will  be  almost 
the  first  plant  one  would  stop  to  observe  on  entering  the  pine 
woods — a  dark  green,  narrow-leaved,  biennial  herb;  its  straight 
stem  of  the  second  year's  growth,  about  a  foot  high,  bearing  a 
raceme-like  cluster  of  flowers,  coiled  at  the  end,  and  straighten- 


MICKOSCOriCAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA.  133 

ing  out  as  the  flowers  expand.  The  leaves  of  this  plant  are 
thickly  studded  on  hoth  sides  with  stiff  transparent  hairs,  lying 
nearly  flat  on  the  surface,  and  all  pointing  towards  the  tip  end  of 
the  leaf.  At  the  base  of  each  hair  is  a  cluster  of  glandular  cells, 
amounting  sometimes  to  fifty  or  more,  arranged  in  beautiful 
geometrical  forms.  When  pressed  and  dried  in  the  herbarium,  the 
body  of  the  leaf  turns  to  a  dark  green,  almost  black,  and  on  this 
back-ground,  with  a  half-inch  objective,  the  hairs  stand  out  like 
sculptured  glass,  and  the  glands  like  mosaics  of  purest  pearls.  I 
think  it  is  the  most  attractive  opaque  object  that  can  be  shown 
under  the  microscope. 

That  these  glandular  cells,  covering  as  they  do  nearly  half  the 
surface  of  the  leaves,  especially  the  upper  surface,  and  differing 
from  all  other  vegetable  cells,  subserve  an  important  purpose  in 
the  sustenance  of  the  plant,  there  cannot  be  a  doubt ;  but  just 
what  that  purpose  is,  or  at  least  what  is  the  mode  of  operation,  I . 
think,  has  never  been  ascertained. 

In  the  same  locality  will  very  likely  be  found  the  most  beauti- 
ful of  all  the  Croton  plants,  the  C.  argyranthemum.  Unlike 
the  other  Crotons,  which  are  bushes,  this  is  an  herb  growing 
only  about  a  foot  high,  with  a  milky  sap  which  exudes  when  the 
stem  is  broken.  The  leaves  are  silvery,  verging  in  some  cases  to 
a  bronze  color,  and  are  thickly  covered  on  the  upper  side  with 
most  remarkable  and  beautiful  stellate  scales.  The  flower-buds 
and  stems  when  pressed,  make  much  more  beautiful  opaque 
objects  than  the  leaves. 

The  object  of  these  scales  is,  without  doubt,  to  prevent  the 
too  rapid  evaporation  of  the  moisture  stored  up  in  the  plant. . 
They  are  the  exquisitely  woven  blankets  which  preserve  the 
precious  juices  so  laboriously  gathered.  The  same  kind  of  cov- 
ering is  spread  over  the  leaves  and  stems  of  all  the  air-plants  of 
Florida,  and  doubtless  for  the  same  purpose.  The  well-known 
Florida  moss,  although  not  a  moss,  but  a  member  of  the  pine- 
apple family,  (Tillandsia  usneoides),  is  an  exceedingly  beautiful 
object  under  the  microscope.  Each  hanging  stem  is  overlaid 
with  filmy  white  scales,  every  one  of  which  is  fastened  in  its 
place  by  what  wrould  seern  to  be  the  stamp  of  some  miniature 


134  MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA. 

seal  on  golden-tinted  wax.  This  plant  as  ordinarily  seen  on  the 
live-oaks  near  cities,  is  a  dirty-looking  and  unattractive  object, 
and  goes  by  the  name  of  "  black  moss."  But  in  out-of-the-way 
places,  removed  from  the  dust  and  smoke  of  settled  localities,  it 
is  pearly  white,  and  exceedingly  beautiful  both  to  the  naked  eye 
and  under  any  power  of  magnification.  Florida  moss  should  be 
preserved  with  only  very  slight  pressure,  just  enough  to  make 
the  threads  lie  straight.  After  it  has  dried  in  this  way,  small 
cuttings  may  be  mounted  in  the  ordinary  cells  for  opaque 
mounting. 

On  the  high  banks  of  the  lake,  and  in  the  adjoining  fields,  may 
be  found  the  large-leaved  and  vigorous-growing  Calicarpa  (C. 
Americana),  sometimes  called  the  French  mulberry,  a  bush 
growing  some  five  or  six  feet  in  height.  The  under  sides  of  the 
leaves  of  this  plant  are  nearly  covered  with  little  round,  yellow, 
sessile  glands,  flattened  on  top  arid  marked  off  into  eight  or  ten 
sections  by  ribs  like  those  on  a  melon.  They  are  in  immense 
.numbers — something  like  thirty  thousand  to  the  square  inch — 
over  half  a  million  on  a  good  sized  leaf.  Under  a  light  net-work 
of  branching  glandular  hairs,  viewed  with  a  two-thirds  objective, 
these  polished  amber-colored  disks  glisten  like  a  spangle  of 
golden  beads. 

The  same  kind  of  glands  is  found  on  the  leaves  of  many 
other  shrubs  in  Florida — the  sweet  myrtle  (Myrica  cerifera),  the 
low  ground  blueberry  (  Vaccinium  tenellum\  a  certain  bush  or 
dwarf  hickory  (Gary a  glabra)  and  some  others.  These  glands 
have  been  variously  called  resin  dots,  resin  glands,  and  odorif- 
erous glands.  So  far  as  I  can  judge  however  they  are  not  con- 
nected with  any  resinous  or  odoriferous  secretions.  From  their 
almost  perfect  resemblance  to  the  terminal  bulb  of  the  mushroom 
glands  of  the  Pinguicula  and  Drosera,  which  are  known  to  be 
absorbing  glands,  the  probability  is  that  these  also  serve  to  absorb 
moisture  and  ammonia  from  the  atmosphere  and  from  rains. 
Although  I  am  free  to  acknowledge  that  the  position  of  the 
glands,  being  for  the  most  part  on  the  under  side  of  the  leaves, 
militates  somewhat  against  this  view  of  their  purpose. 

Great  care  will  have  to  be  taken  in  pressing  and  drying  vege- 
table specimens  in  the  moist  climate  of  Florida.  The  little 


MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA.  135 

threads  of  the  mould  fungus  will  be  sure  to  creep  over  the  surface 
of  the  leaves,  spoiling  them  for  microscopical  material,  if  they 
are  not  quickly  and  effectually  dried.  For  this  purpose  it  is  well 
to  have  a  good  supply  of  the  bibulous  botanical  paper,  and  to 
change  the  specimens  every  day  to  fresh  sheets  for  at  least  four 
or  five  days.  The  sheets  after  being  once  used,  should  be  spread 
out  in  the  sun  to  dry.  A  weight  of  about  thirty  pounds  may  be 
used  for  the  pressure. 

The  objects  heretofore  mentioned  are  all  for  opaque  mounting. 
Almost  every  preparer  of  slides  has  his  own  favorite  method  for 
this  kind  of  work.  I  myself  prefer  the  use  of  the  transparent 
shellac  cells.  Clarified  shellac  is  dissolved  in  alcohol,  and  filtered 
through  cotton-wool  under  a  bell  glass,  and  with  the  application 
of  heat.  The  solution  is  evaporated  down  until  it  is  so  thick 
that  it  will  only  just  run — almost  a  jelly.  In  this  condition  it 
can  be  put  on  a  slide  with  a  camel's  hair  brush,  on  the  turn-table, 
and  very  quickly  worked  up  into  a  ring  with  the  point  of 
a  knife,  used  first  on  the  inside  to  make  the  cell  of  the  size 
wanted,  and  then  on  the  outside  to  turn  the  cement  up  into 
a  compact  ring.  Two  or  three  applications  of  the  cement,  with 
intervals  of  a  day  or  two  after  each,  will  make  cells  of  sufficient 
depth  for  all  ordinary  specimens.  These  cells  dry  quite  slowly  ; 
and  if  artificial  heat  is  used,  it  must  be  increased  only  very 
gradually,  otherwise  vapor  of  alcohol  bubbles  will  make  their 
appearance  in  them.  A  small  ring  of  Brunswick  black  may  be 
made  inside  of  the  cell,  to  which  wrhen  thoroughly  dry,  the 
object  may  be  fastened  with  a  very  little  liquid  marine  glue.  In 
this  case  both  sides  of  the  leaf  can  be  seen,  which  is  often 
desirable.  In  all  opaque  mountings  a  minute  aperture  should  in 
some  way  be  left  open  into  the  inside  of  the  cell,  so  that  it  shall 
not  be  hermetically  sealed  up.  This  little  precaution  will  save 
an  innumerable  number  of  failures. 

The  collector  in  Florida,  will  not  fail  to  secure- a  supply  of  the 
leaf  stems  of  the  castor  oil  plant  (Ricimis  communis).  In 
regions  be}^ond  the  influence  of  frosts,  this  plant  grows  contin- 
uously from  year  to  year  and  becomes  quite  a  tree.  It  is  only  in 
such  a  growth  that  the  spiral  tissue  of  the  fibro-vascular  bundles 


136  MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA. 

is  fully  perfected.  The  castor  oil  plants  grown  in  our  climate 
during  one  short  season,  will  furnish  very  little  spiral  tissue, 
mostly  spotted  ducts  and  scalariform  cells.  There  is  no  more 
beautiful  object  for  multiple  staining  than  thin  longitudinal  sec- 
tions through  the  woody  fiber,  the  vascular  tissues,  and  the  pith 
cells  of  the  castor  oil  plant.  I  will  briefly  describe  my  process 
of  making  these  stainings.  After  being  decolorized  in  chlorin- 
ated soda,  the  sections  may  be  left  for  half  a  day  or  more  in  a 
solution  of  carmine  in  water  containing  a  few  drops  of  aqua  am- 
monia; then  for  half  an  hour  in  a  rather  weak  solution  of 
extract  of  logwood  in  alum  water,  and  finally  10  to  15  minutes 
in  a  weak  solution  of  anilin  violet  or  blue  in  alcohol.  From 
this  they  can  be  carried  through  absolute  alcohol  into  turpentine, 
and  mounted  in  balsam  at  any  time  thereafter.  If  successful  in 
this  staining  you  will  have  the  pith  cells  in  red,  the  spiral  tissue 
in  blue,  the  wood  cells  in  purple  and  the  stellate  crystals  in  green 
or  yellow. 

But  the  chief  objects  of  interest  to  the  microscopist  in  the 
vegetation  of  Florida,  are  the  insectivorous  plants.  Not  only 
are  they  more  abundant  and,  as  I  think,  more  perfectly  developed 
in  the  central  lake  regions,  of  Florida,  but  some  varieties  are 
found  there  different,  it  seems  to  me,  from  any  found  elsewhere. 
I  desire  particularly  to  mention  one  which  I  discovered,  and 
which  perhaps  might  be  entitled  to  rank  as  a  new  species. 

In  a  lagoon-like  basin  at  the  side  of  a  small  lake  near  Lake 
Harris,  in  water  from  two  to  three  feet  deep,  I  found  numerous 
specimens  of  the  insectivorous  plant  known  as  the  Drosera  or 
sun-dew,  growing  thriftily  and  floating  about  among  the  scattered 
water-weeds,  without  any  attachment  whatever,  indeed  with  very 
little  root  of  any  kind,  the  dead  leaves  that  hung  down  in  the 
water  seeming  both  to  buoy  it  up  and  to  hold  it  upright.  This 
plant  differs  from  all  the  described  species  of  Drosera,  so  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  ascertain,  in  having  an  upright,  leaf-bearing 
stem  from  four  to  five  inches  long,  in  floating  free  on  the  water, 
and  in  having  unusually  long,  vigorous  and  numerous  leaves. 
As  I  never  found  this  floating  Drosera  in  any  other  location,  and 
as  there  was  an  abundance  of  the  ordinary  Drosera  longifolia 


Transverse  Section.     Magnified  12  Diameters. 


Plate  IX.— SPIRAL  TISSUE  IN  THE  LEAF  STEM  OF  THE  CASTOR 
OIL  PLANT.      See  Page  xvi. 


Longitudinal  Section.     Magnified  70  Diameters. 


MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA.  137 

growing  on  the  adjoining  shore,  I  could  not  resist  the  suspicion 
that  at  tin's  very  spot  in  some  past  time  a  plant  of  the  longifolia, 
had  by  accident  become  uprooted,  and  floated  out  on  the  water ; 
that  finding  it  could  capture  insects  even  better  on  the  water  than 
crowded  among  shore  plants,  it  adapted  itself  permanently  to  its 
new  location  and  modes  of  growth.  It  appeared  to  me  quite 
within  the  bounds  of  probability  that  here  was  an  instance  of 
the  evolution  of  a  species  in  loco. 

The  Drosera  or  "sun-dew"  is  found  on  the  margins  of  nearly 
all  small  ponds  and  permanently  wet  places  throughout  the 
south.  It  is  a  small  red  plant,  growing  close  to  the  ground,  and 
glistening  in  the  sunlight.  Its  little  whorl  of  expanded  leaves 
forms  a  circlet  as  beautiful  as  any  flower,  and  often  so  very  small 
that  I  have  frequently  mounted  whole  plants  with  flower-stalk 
and  buds  on  an  ordinary  slide.  Each  leaf  of  the  Drosera  has, 
spread  out  on  its  upper  surface  and  edges,  from  two  to  three 
hundred  arms,  called  tentacles  because  endowed  with  the  power 
of  motion,  and  of  such  varying  lengths  that  when  naturally  in- 
curved, their  ends  just  meet  at  the  center  of  the  leaf.  Each 
tentacle  has  at  its  extremity  a  pad,  like  an  extended  palm,  with  a 
ridge  raised  lengthwise  upon  it ;  and  in  this  palm  is  a  bundle  of 
spiral  vessels  connected  with  the  same  tissues  in  the  leaf.  Now 
all  these  tentacles  secrete  and  exude  from  the  glands  at  their 
ends  a  little  drop  of  a  very  adhesive  fluid  ;  and  the  glistening  of 
these  drops  in  the  sunlight  on  their  usually  bright  red  back- 
ground, gives  to  the  plant  its  beauty  and  its  name  of  the  "  sun- 
dew." An  insect  attracted  to  and  alighting  on  these  leaves  is 
inevitably  held  fast.  The  tentacles  by  which  it  is  held  very 
soon  begin  to  bend  towards  the  center  of  the  leaf,  carrying  the 
fly  with  them.  Then  in  some  mysterious  way,  intelligence  is 
communicated  to  the  other  tentacles,  and  they  too  begin  to  turn 
towards  the  center  of  the  leaf,  in  the  course  of  an  hour  or  two 
completely  covering  the  captured  prey.  If  the  insect  is  caught 
entirely  on  one  side  of  the  leaf,  then  only  the  tentacles  of  that 
side  inflect.  The  glands  after  envelopment,  exude  a  gastric  fluid 
which  dissolves  the  nitrogenous  matter  in  the  body,  after  which, 
by  another  change  of  function,  they  absorb  and  carry  down  into 


138  MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA. 

the  plant  all  this  nutritious  little  feast.  In  the  course  of  three 
or  four  days  the  tentacles  again  expand  and  prepare  themselves 
for  another  capture. 

There  are  several  reasons  which  lead  me  to  believe  that  these 
unique  and  most  wonderful  organs  of  the  Drosera  are  a  direct 
and  special  development  from  the  common  simple  mushroom 
glands,  which  are  found  on  many  plants,  and  which  have  for 
their  primary  function  to  absorb  moisture  and  ammonia  from  the 
atmosphere  and  from  rains. .  I  found  on  the  calyx  and  flower 
stem  of  the  Drosera  an  abundance  of  these  mushroom  glands. 
Indeed  the  flower  stem  with  its  buds  furnishes  by  reason  of  them 
an  exceedingly  beautiful  object  for  the  microscope,  both  in  a 
natural  state  and  when  prepared  by  double  staining. 

I  have  found  it  quite  a  general  rule  as  regards  plants,  that 
whatever  organs,  such  as  stellate  hairs  or  glands,  the  leaves  may 
possess,  the  calyx  and  stem  of  the  flower  will  show  them  in  far 
greater  luxuriance  and  beauty.  The  stellate  hairs  of  the  Deutzia, 
the  protons,  and  the  Shepherdias,  are  far  more  numerous  and 
striking  on  the  flower  buds  than  on  the  leaves.  The  mushroom 
glands  which  are  found  on  the  leaves  of  the  Saxifrage  and  Pin- 
guicula,  are  multiplied  many  fold  in  number  and  attractiveness 
on  the  calyx  and  flower  stem  of  these  plants.  So  I  regard  that 
this  was  once  the  case  with  the  Drosera ;  and  that  the  mushroom 
glands,  which  are  now  found  on  the  flower,  were  then  common 
to  the  leaves.  A  process  of  evolution  has  transformed  them  on 
the  leaves  into  those  wonderful  motile  arms  adapted  to  the 
capture  of  insects,  but  has  left  them  unchanged  on  the  flower, 
where  that  function  would  be  of  no  use  to  the  plant.  I 
occasionally  find  in  my  preparations  a  solitary  mushroom  gland 
among  the  tentacles  of  the  leaf — a  remnant  of  a  race  that  has  been- 
supplanted.  There  is  found  in  Portugal  a  plant  very  similar  to 
the  Drosera,  the  Drosophyllum,  which  has  still  only  the  mush- 
room glands  on  its  leaves,  and  catches  insects  in  great  quantity 
by  loading  them  down  with  the  viscid  secretion  which  these 
glands  abundantly  pour  forth. 

To  exhibit  the  very  delicate  structure  of  the  leaf  and  tentacles 
of  the  Drosera,  it  is  necessary  to  color  them  slightly.  The 


MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA.  139 

danger  will  be  in  over-staining;  therefore,  after  decolorizing  and 
immersing  for  a  few  hours  in  the  carmine  solution,  the  specimens 
should  be  exposed  to  only  a  very  weak  fresh  solution  of  logwood 
for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes.  If  the  anilin  blue  is  resorted  to 
at  all,  it  must  be  in  a  very  weak  solution.  A  mounting  of  a  leaf 
and  a  stem  with  flower  buds  in  one  cell  in  camphorated  or  carbo- 
lated  water,  makes  a  very  pretty  and  complete  slide  for  the 
Drosera. 

The  Utricularja  is  a  floating  carnivorous  plant  which  grows  in 
the  shallow  water  of  quiet  ponds.  On  the  surface  of  the  water 
from  five  to  seven  leaves  are  spread  out  like  the  spokes  of  a 
wheel,  and  from  the  center  of  these  leaves  the  plant  sends  up- 
ward its  flower  stalk  and  downward  its  root-like  branches,  floating 
freely  in  the  water.  Among  the  thickly  branching  fibres  of  these 
long  submerged  stems,  are  perched  innumerable  little  bladders  or 
utricles,  not  much  larger  than  the  head  of  a  pin,  each  provided 
with  a  mouth  at  the  bottom  of  a  sort  of  funnel  of  bristles, 
closed  with  a  cunning  little  trap  lid  which  opens  inward,  engulf- 
ing and  imprisoning  whatever  minute  creatures  or  substances 
may  happen  to  be  resting  on  it.  In  these  sacks  during  the  grow- 
ing season,  we  will  find  numerous  microscopic  water  fleas,  mites 
and  beetles,  with  grains  of  pine  pollen  and  other  floating  parti- 
cles. The  organic  bodies  will  be  found  in  all  stages  of  digestion, 
showing  that  the  plant  derives  nourishment  from  such  captured 
prey ;  and  apparently  its  only  means  of  livelihood  is  trapping. 

When  taken  from  the  water  and  dried  under  slight  pressure, 
the  submerged  portions  of  the  Utricularia  will  be  found  literally 
covered  with  diatoms;  and  many  very  interesting  chrysalids  of 
water-insects  will  be  found  attached  to  them.  These  will  all  be 
washed  off  if  the  plant  is  bleached  in  chlorinated  soda.  To  pre- 
serve them  it  will  be  necessary  to  remove  the  color  in  alcohol, 
and  besides  to  handle  very  carefully.  The  staining  can  only  be 
single ;  and  I  have  found  a  weak  solution  of  eosin  in  water,  to 
be  the  best  material  for  coloring,  showing  at  the  same  time  the 
structure  of  the  utricles  and  the  captures  contained  in  them. 
Specimens  of  new  growths,  showing  the  just  forming  utricles 
and  the  peculiar  circinate  mode  of  growth,  should  be  included 
on  the  slide.  The  mounting  should  be  in  camphorated  water. 


140  MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA. 

The  Pinguicula,  another  of  the  insectivorous  plants,  is  found 
abundantly  on  the  more  open  plains,  and  not  far  from  wet  places. 
It  is  a  compact  rosette  of  very  light  green  leaves,  growing  close 
to  the  ground,  from  the  center  of  which  rises  a  single  flower- 
stalk,  eight  or  ten  inches  high.  The  leaves  have  their  edges 
turned  up,  forming  a  shallow  trough,  and  on  the  upper  surface 
are  mushroom  glands,  which  exude  a  viscid  secretion.  Insects 
are  caught  and  held  by  this  sticky  substance  until  they  die.  The 
nutritious  matter  is  then  dissolved  out  by  an  acid  secretion,  and 
is  ultimately  absorbed  into  the  substance  of  the  plant  by  the 
glands  on  the  leaf.  The  edge  of  a  leaf  when  excited  by  a  cap- 
ture will  bend  over  upon  it  for  a  short  time,  for  the  purpose  of 
more  effectually  securing  it,  and  of  bathing  it  in  the  secretions. 
The  calyx  and  flower-stalk,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  are 
thickly  covered  with  the  same  mushroom  glands  that  are  found 
more  sparingly  on  the  leaves.  I  have  never  seen  any  evidence 
that  the  flower  appendages  took  any  part  in  the  digestion  of 
insects.  They  seem  to  be  rather  in  the  nature  of  an  ornamenta- 
tion than  of  anything  useful.  For  exhibition,  therefore,  or  for 
double-staining,  the  calyx  and  flower  stem  will  be  found  by  far 
the  most  attractive  part  of  the  plant.  The  best  way  to  preserve 
them,  as  well  as  all  such  small  material,  until  wanted  for  use,  is 
to  put  them  green  into  a  common  morphia  vial  with  a  few  drops 
of  alcohol  and  water,  and  then  to  cork  and  seal  them  up  tight 
with  melted  beeswax.  To  prepare  them  for  the  slide  these  ob- 
jects may  be  treated  precisely  as  recommended  for  sections  of 
castor-oil  plant,  but  should  be  mounted  in  a  weak  solution  of 
glycerine  in  camphorated  water. 

If  cells  are  made  of  rings  punched  out  of  the  thin  sheets  of 
colored  wax,  used  by  artificial  flower  makers,  and  then  coated 
with  either  liquid  marine  glue,  or  a  mixture  in  equal  parts  of 
gold  size  and  gum  dammar  dissolved  in  benzole,  this  method  of 
liquid  mounting  may  be  as  easily  and  safely  performed  as  mount- 
ing in  balsam.  In  very  many  cases  simple  water,  made  antiseptic 
in  any  manner,  will  be  found  far  preferable  to  any  other  media, 
both  for  retaining  the  full  and  distended  forms  of  minute  organs, 
and  for  bringing  out  the  delicate  markings  of  vegetable  structure 
which  the  highly  refractive  balsam  would  entirely  obliterate. 


MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA.  141 

There  is  only  one  other  insectivorous  plant  found  in  Florida, 
the  pitcher  plant,  (Sarracenia  variolaris\  a  species  growing 
only  in  the  South  'Atlantic  States.  It  is  found  in  low  and  wet 
places  among  the  open  pine-barrens,  but  is  not  as  abundant  as  the 
others  which  have  been  mentioned.  The  leaf  is  a  hollow,  coni- 
cal or  trumpet-shaped  tube,  with  a  flange  or  wing  running  up 
one  side,  and  a  hood  which  arches  over  the  orifice  of  the  tube. 
Durin*g  the  growing  season  this  tube  is  usually  more  than  half 
filled  with  water,  which  we  must  suppose  secreted  by  the  plant 
itself,  because  the  hood  effectually  sheds  all  rain  water  from  it. 
Crowded  into  the  bottom  of  the  tubes  of  mature  leaves,  we  shall 
almost  invariably  find  a  mass  of  the  hard  and  indigestible  parts 
of  insects.  These  creatures  have  been  in  some  way  attracted 
into  that  suspicious  looking  receptacle,  and  once  in  have  been 
unable  to  get  out  again.  A  mere  partially  covered  tube  however, 
with  a  little  water  in  it,  is  by  no  means  a  fly-trap.  Not  one 
insect  in  a  hundred  would  fall  into  that  well  and  drown,  if  there 
were  not  some  special  device  absolutely  preventing  it  from 
crawling  upward.  Now  a  microscopical  examination  of  the  in- 
side of  the  hood  and  tube  of  the  pitcher  plant  reveals  the  most 
skillful  contrivance  for  securing  insect  prey  that  could  possibly 
be  imagined.  In  the  first  place,  there  are  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  receptacle  and  about  the  mouth,  great  numbers  of  sessile 
glands  which  secrete  abundantly  a  sweet  fluid  very  attracting  to 
ants  and  flies.  Further,  there  is  on  the  inner  surface  of  the  hood 
and  mouth,  a  formidable  array  of  comparatively  long  pike- 
pointed  spines,  all  pointing  backward  and  downward.  These 
grade  off  into  shorter,  more  blunt,  but  still  exceedingly  sharp- 
pointed  spines,  which  overlap  each  other  like  tiles  on  the  roof  of 
a  house.  This  kind  of  coating  lines  the  tube  for  a  third  of  the 
way  down,  the  spines  growing  finer  until  at  last  they  grade  off 
into  regular  hairs  which  line  all  the  lower  part  of  the  tube ; 
spines  and  hairs  all  pointing  downward.  An  insect  attempting 
to  retrace  its  steps  after  its  ambrosial  feast,  would  find  nothing 
which  it  could  penetrate  or  grasp  with  the  booklets  of  its  feet ; 
and  the  wetness  of  the  spines,  from  the  constantly  overflowing 
glands,  would  probably  prevent  it  from  making  use  of  any  other 


142  MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA. 

device  that  insects  may  have  for  climbing  glazed  surfaces.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  no  creature  comes  out  of  that  prison  house,  unless 
it  be  with  the  single  exception  of  one  cunning  spider,  which  in 
some  way  finds  a  safe  and  rich  retreat  under  the  hood  of  its  great 
vegetable  rival. 

The  bodies  of  the  captured  prey  fall  into  the  fluid  in  the  tube 
and  are  macerated  or  decomposed,  but  without  any  signs  of 
putrescence.  Therefore  the  plant  must  at  once  absorb  the  ani- 
mal matter,  for  otherwise  this  would  cause  the  infusorial  life 
which-is  called  putrefaction. 

In  order  to  show  the  internal  structure  of  the  pitcher  plant 
leaf,  it  will  be  necessary  to  separate  the  cuticle  which  bears  the 
spines  and  glands  from  the  rest  of  the  leaf.  To  do  this,  pieces 
cut  from  the  leaf,  and  preferably  those  showing  the  transition 
from  one  kind  of  spines  into  another,  after  being  soaked  in 
water,  may  be  put  into  common  nitric  acid,  and  this  brought  up 
to  the  boiling  point  over  an  alcohol  lamp.  They  should  then  be 
immediately  washed  in  several  waters,  when  it  will  probably  be 
found  that  the  cuticle,  both  the  inner  and  the  outer,  has  already 
separated  from  the  parenchyma.  The  specimens  will  need  no 
further  bleaching,  and  may  be  stained  either  in  eosin  dissolved 
in  water,  or  in  anilin  blue  in  alcohol.  As  there  is  only  one  kind 
of  tissue  to  be  stained,  it  will  be  impossible  to  get  more  than  one 
color  in  them.  They  should  be  mounted  or  kept  in  water  very 
slightly  acidulated  with  carbolic  acid. 

I  cannot  but  regard  the  pitcher  plant  as  the  most  highly  de- 
veloped, and  the  most  specialized  in  its  organization  of  any  of 
the  insectivorous  plants.  It  differs  more  widely  from  ordinary 
vegetation,  and  has  more  special  and  adapted  contrivances  about 
it,  than  any  of  the  others.  Now  as  I  believe  that  the  truth  of 
the  modern  evolutionary  theory  will  be  eventually  brought  to  a 
test  by  well-studied  monographs,  made  by  microscopists,  on  some 
such  highly  differentiated  organic  structures  as  this  pitcher  plant, 
I  do  not  deem  it  a  digression  to  present  here  briefly  some  infer- 
ences which  seem  to  me  to  arise  from  the  developmental  history 
of  this  particular  plant.  Of  course,  if  the  pitcher  plant  was  de- 
veloped from  other  and  ordinary  plants,  it  had  at  one  time  the 


MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA.  143 

simple  plain  leaves  of  common  herbs.  It  must  have  early  com- 
menced in  some  way  to  appropriate  insect  food  on  these  leaves, 
because  every  subsequent  change  was  for  the  betterment  of  the 
plant  in  this  direction.  The  stem  of  the  leaves  soon  began  to 
put  out  flanges  or  wings  on  each  side,  the  phyllodia  of  the  botan- 
ists, which  are  not  uncommon  among  plants.  And  these  out- 
spread wings  must  have  assisted  in  the  absorption  of  insect  food 
that  was  washed  down  upon  them.  Then  the  edges  of  the  wings 
turned  up,  and  curved  around  towards  each  other,  until  finally 
they  met  and  grew  together,  forming  a  tube  and  a  much  more 
complete  receptacle  for  decomposing  animal  bodies.  A  South 
American  genus,  the  Heliamphora,  is  just  in  this  partly  develop- 
ed condition  at  the  present  time.  Then  from  some  unknown 
cause  and  in  a  way  exceedingly  difficult  to  explain,  our  Sarra- 
cenia  commenced  preparations  for  an  entirely  different  manner 
of  capturing  insects.  The  leaf  bent  over  the  orifice  of  the  tube, 
forming  the  hood,  and  those  remarkable  spines  and  tiled  plates 
were  developed  on  the  inside  of  the  hood  and  tube,  growing 
backwards,  contrary  to  the  order  of  nature.  When  all  this  was 
accomplished  and  fully  completed,  but  not  before,  our  plant  could 
commence  its  career  as  the  most  successful  trappist  of  either  the 
vegetable  or  the  animal  kingdom. 

Now  according  to  the  Darwinian  theory,  all  these  transform- 
ations were  the  result  of  innumerable  slight  and  favorable  vari- 
ations, each  one  of  which  happened  to  be  so  beneficial  to  the 
particular  plant  concerned,  that  it  got  the  start  of  all  the  others, 
and  every  time  run  them  all  out  of  existence.  One  cannot  tell 
how  many  million  times  this  extinction  and  reproduction  must 
have  occurred,  before  our  marvellously  perfect  little  fly-trap  was 
finally  produced.  Excuse  me  if  I  confess  that  not  all  the  canon- 
ical books  of  Darwin  are  sufficient  to  make  me  put  faith  in  the 
miracles  attributed  to  natural  selection  and  the  survival  of  the 
fittest.  I  believe  in  the  fact  of  the  progressive  development  of 
the  organic  kingdom  ;  for  all  science  teaches  it.  But  I  believe 
it  was  governed  and  guided  by  forces  more  potent  than  chance 
variation  and  adaptive  selection.  The  Being,  or  the  First  Cause 
if  you  will,  who  originated  the  simple  elements  of  matter,  and 


144  MICROSCOPICAL    COLLECTIONS    IN    FLORIDA. 

endowed  them  with  the  power  and  the  tendency  to  aggregate 
into  developing  worlds,  might  equally  as  well  have  endowed  cer- 
tain of  them  with  the  power  and  the  tendency  to  aggregate  into 
ever  advancing  organisms.  There  is  no  element  of  chance  in 
the  myriad  forms  of  crystalline  and  chemical  substances ;  then 
why  should  there  be  in  the  scarcely  more  varied  colloid  forms  of 
living  matter?  In  a  world  that  unfolds  from  chaos  in  one  steady 
line  of  progress,  that  shows  only  design  at  every  advancing  stage, 
I  must  logically  place  somewhere  at  its  commencement  the 
almighty  fiat  of  a  Designer. 


ON   THE   PREPARATION   OF   OBJECTS   FOR 
THE   MICROSCOPE.* 


In  the  matter  of  microscopic  objects  and  preparations,  I  ac- 
knowledge myself  the  advocate  of  the  beautiful.  In  this  new 
world  which  the  microscope  has  opened  up  to  us,  I  seek  mainly, 
if  not  only,  for  that  which  is  fair  and  lovely  to  behold.  In  the 
estimation  of  some  of  the  professors  of  this  science,  I  am  afraid 
that  this  acknowledgment  will  place  me  in  the  class  of  those  who 
make  of  the  microscope  a  plaything,  and  who  turn  a  means  of 
instruction  into  a  means  of  amusement  only.  But  to  me  it  seems 
that  the  field  of  microscopic  research  is  so  vast,  and  the  harvest 
of  instructive  lessons  so  abundant,  that  I  may  be  excused  for 
gathering  only  the  flowers. 

The  specialist  and  the  expert,  for  the  purpose  of  personal  in- 
formation and  judgment,  will  have  occasion,  and  ought,  to  exam- 
ine the  minutest  and  the  dryest  details  in  the  line  of  his  specialty. 
But  he  who  would  simply  draw  interesting  lessons  from  nature, 
or  instruction  for  the  uninformed,  need  not  go  beyond  the  beau- 
tiful and  the  attractive  in  the  list  of  microscopic  objects.  The 
facts  of  science  and  the  range  of  discovery  can  be  amply,  and  I 
think  best  illustrated  by  preparations  which  strike  the  eye  and 
command  the  attention. 

To  illustrate  my  meaning,  I  will  show  you  later  this  evening  a 
longitudinal  section  through  the  fibro-vascular  bundles  in  the 
leaf -stem  of  the  castor-oil  plant.  It  is,  I  think,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  objects  in  structural  botany,  and  at  the  same  time  it 
opens  up  to  us  some  of  the  most  interesting  and  puzzling  quest- 

*A  Paper  read  before  the  Rochester  Microscopical  Society,  Dec.  llth,  1879. 


146  PREPARATION    OF    OBJECTS    FOR   THE    MICROSCOPE. 

ions  in  the  history  of  plant  growth.  As  you  know,  there  is  in 
plants  almost  as  complete  a  circulation  of  fluids  as  in  our  own 
bodies.  The  sap  travels  up  from  the  roots  through  the  capillary 
tubes  which  are  grouped  in  these  fibro- vascular  bundles,  and 
from  them  passes  out  through  the  veins  of  the  leaves.  At  the 
tip  end  of  the  veins  it  turns  into  another  set  of  tubes  under- 
neath, and  follows  its  course  backward,  gradually  descending 
towards  the  roots  again,  through  cells  between  the  bark  and  the 
wood,  where  it  leaves  its  deposit  of  formed  material.  The 
capillary  tubes  of  the  vascular  bundles  were  first  and  originally 
formed  as  rows  of  large  cells  placed  one  on  top  of  another. 
Afterwards  the  partition  walls  which  separated  the  cells  were 
absorbed  and  they  became  perfect  tubes.  Then  on  the  inside  of 
these  tubes  were  deposited  closely  coiled  spiral  threads,  sometimes 
rings,  and  sometimes  again  more  open  spirals,  running  in  opposite 
directions  and  crossing  each  other,  forming  what  are  called  the 
spotted  ducts.  But  the  spiral  tubes,  or  tissues  as  they  are  called, 
are  certainly  the  most  remarkable  structures  in  the  vegetable 
economy.  They  are  larger  and  more  numerous  in  the  castor  oil 
plant  than  in  any  other  that  I  know  of.  But  even  in  that  plant, 
it  is  as  if  wire,  far  finer  than  any  silk  or  spider-web  fiber,  had 
been  closely  wound  around  a  form  more  slender  than  the  finest 
cambric  needle,  and  then  these  coils  had  been  laid  away  in  groups 
or  bundles  of  twenty  or  more  in  the  woody  tissues  next  to  the 
pith  cells.  But  now  comes  the  puzzling  question  of  how  these 
spiral  tissues  or  threads  were  formed.  By  what  laws  of  growth, 
or  by  what  natural  process  were  these  strange  and  complicate 
structures  built  up?  The  botanist  has  not  yet  been  able  to 
find  it  out. 

I  may  show  you  also  this  evening  the  remarkable  glandular 
organs,  called  the  mushroom  glands,  of  certain  insectivorous 
plants,  which  glands  are  said  to  secrete  a  gastric  juice  that 
digests  the  bodies  of  insects,  and  which  afterwards  absorb  the 
products  of  that  digestion.  They  are  found  on  the  upper  sur- 
face of  the  leaves,  where  they  fulfill  this  extraordinary  function. 
But  what  is  very  strange,  they  also  follow  up  the  stem  of  the 
flower,  and  are  most  beautiful  and  abundant  on  the  outer  leaves 


PREPARATION    OF    OBJECTS    FOR  THE    MICROSCOPE.  147 

or  sepals  of  the  blossom,  where  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  they 
ever  have  occasion  to  perform  their  peculiar  office.  But  I  have 
found  it  very  generally  the  case  that  whatever  appendages  the 
leaves  of  a  plant  may  have,  the  calyx  of  the  flower  will  show 
them  in  much  greater  beauty  and  abundance. 

I  have  said  this  much  to  explain  in  a  measure  my  predilection 
for  botanical  subjects  for  the  microscope.  There  is  no  end  to 
beautiful  things  among  them,  both  for  artificial  preparation  and 
unprepared  specimens,  as  opaque  objects.  There  may  be  beauti- 
ful things  among  the  preparations  of  animal  tissues  and  growth, 
but  I  must  confess  that  I  have  never  yet  seen  many  of  them. 
Compare  the  plates  of  any  animal  histology,  the  illustration  of 
Beale's  work  on  the  Microscope,  for  instance,  with  the  elaborate 
drawing's  of  Sach's  Botany.  To  use  a  rather  gross  comparison, 
the  former  might  remind  one  of  a  German  sausage  shop,  the 
latter  of  a  French  fancy  store. 

Now  the  only  way  in  which  vegetable  preparations  can  be 
made  available  for  the  microscope — that  is,  to  be  seen  by  trans- 
mitted light — is  to  remove  the  green  chlorophyl,  or  other  color- 
ing matter,  by  either  soaking  in  alcohol  or  immersing  for  a  time 
in  the  Labarraque  fluid,  which  is  the  same  as  the  chlorinated  soda 
sold  by  druggists  as  a  disinfectant.  Alcohol  merely  dissolves  out 
the  coloring  matter,  leaving  the  cell  contents,  or  the  protoplas- 
mic matter,  still  in  the  specimen.  Therefore  an  object  decolor- 
ized in  alcohol  will  be  somewhat  more  opaque  than  if  decolorized 
in  chlorinated  soda,  which  destroys  all  the  softer  parts,  leaving 
only  the  frame  work,  or  the  cellulose.  Sometimes  the  alkaline 
soda  in  this  preparation  is  not  fully  saturated  or  neutralized  by 
chlorine.  In  this  case  vegetable  substances  will  be  eaten  up  and 
destroyed  in  it,  as  they  would  be  in  any  alkali.  This  fact  has 
given  the  preparation  a  bad  ndme  with  some  microscopists,  who 
say  that  it  is  unsafe  to  use.  But  I  have  never  experienced  any 
trouble  in  the  use  of  that  which  has  been  made  by  reliable  chem- 
ists. The  preparation  should  be  kept  in  the  dark  as  much  as 
possible,  as  light  causes  it  to  precipitate.  Thin  objects  such  as 
ordinary  leaves  and  thin  sections  will  be  decolorized  in  this  solu- 
tion in  from  twelve  to  twenty-four  hours.  They  must  then  be 


148  PREPARATION    OF    OBJECTS    FOR   THE   MICROSCOPE. 

thoroughly  washed  in  several  waters  to  remove  all  trace  of  the 
cry  stall  izable  solution. 

Now  in  order  to  bring  out  and  to  contrast  the  various  tissues, 
as  the  woody  fiber,  the  cell  walls,  the  ducts  and  spiral  vessels,  it 
is  necessary  to  recolor  these  objects ;  and  it  is  highly  desirable,  if 
possible,  to  color  the  various  parts  differently.  Now  it  is  a  sing- 
ular and  fortunate  fact  that  certain  colors,  or  at  least  certain 
pigments,  will  either  go  to  certain  sets  of  tissues  and  leave  the 
others  entirely  unaffected,  or  they  will  color  certain  tissues 
quicker  and  more  readily  than  they  will  others.  Thus  carmine 
dissolved  in  water  with  a  few  drops  of  aqua-ammonia  in  it,  will 
color  only  cell  contents.  Therefore,  for  carmine  to  have  its  best 
effect,  or  indeed  any  great  effect,  it  is  necessary  that  the  leaves 
or  thin  sections  be  decolorized  in  alcohol,  which  does  not  remove 
the  albuminoid  matter.  Again,  the  extract  of  logwood,  dissolved 
in  weak  alum  water,  will  color  first  the  woody  cells  or  fibers, 
then  other  cell  walls,  as  the  pith  and  leaf  cells ;  and  finally,  if 
the  specimen  is  left  in  it  long  enough,  it  will  color  the  spiral  and 
other  vascular  tissues.  It  is  therefore  well  to  remove  the  objects 
from  this  dye  before  its  work  is  complete — say  in  from  fifteen 
to  thirty  minutes.  And  if  it  has  then  colored  them  too  far  or 
too  deeply,  they -may  be  soaked  in  pure  alum  water,  which  will 
remove  the  color  in  the  reverse  order  already  named  above. 
Lastly,  aniline  blue  dissolved  in  alcohol  will  color  spiral  tissues, 
hairs,  glands,  resin  dots,  leaf  veins  and  generally  all  that  is  left 
uncolored  by  the  other  pigments.  I  have  not  however  been  able 
to  color  the  stellate  hairs  of  Deutzia,  Croton,  Shepherdia  and 
others,  with  aniline  blue.  Aniline  green  will  color  them  ;  but  it 
is  not  always  a  permanent  color.  It  is  very  powerful  in  its  action 
and  requires  only  a  minute  or  two  to  do  its  work. 

A  general  formula  for  double  or  multiple  staining  may  then 
be  given  as  follows :  Carmine  one  day,  logwood  half  an  hour, 
and  aniline  blue  an  hour.  But  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  each 
kind  of  objects,  as  for  instance  sections  of  stems,  thick  leaves 
and  thin  leaves,  leaves  to  show  crystals,  and  those  to  show  hairs 
or  glands,  will  require  a  somewhat  different  treatment  one  from 
the  other.  It  is  very  desirable  that  experimenters  in  this  field 


PREPARATION    OF    OBJECTS    FOR    THE    MICROSCOPE.  149 

should  record  their  experiences,  thus  giving  us  a  literature  on  the 
subject  which  shall  be  a  guide  to  future  operators  for  all  similar 
preparations. 

Now  in  regard  to  the  mounting  of  double  stainings ;  balsam  is 
undoubtedly  the  best  medium  for  all  such  as  will  bear  this 
mounting.  An  object  mounted  in  Canada  balsam  is  sure  to  im- 
prove with  age.  If  we  can  say  of  other  media  that  they  will 
preserve  their  objects  without  change,  it  is  the  highest  excellence 
that  can  be  expected  from  them.  But  a  preparation  in  balsam 
will  be  brighter  and  clearer  the  more  the  volatile  elements  are 
evaporated  from  the  medium — that  is,  the  older  it  is.  It  is  how- 
ever a  fact  that  high  refractive  media,  such  as  balsam  and,  less 
so,  glycerine,  will  obliterate,  or  render  indistinct,  the  fine  and 
delicate  markings  of  objects.  There  are  very  many  vegetable 
stainings  which  in  balsam  are  without  character  or  interest,  but 
which  in  carbolated  or  camphorated  Water  are  veritable  beauties; 
all  the  fine  cellular  markings  and  the  smallest  hairs  or  glands  ap- 
pearing plain  and  distinct.  I  think  it  is  safe  to  say  that  more 
than  half  of  the  vegetable  preparations  you  will  have  to  do  with, 
if  you  exploit  this  field,  will  appear  to  better  advantage  in  water 
than  in  any  other  medium. 

So  it  has  been  quite  a  study  with  me  for  some  time  back  to 
find  a  means  and  a  mode  of  fluid  mounting  both  expeditious  and 
reliable.  I  am  happy  to  say  that  I  have  found  a  method  which, 
so  far  as  I  can  judge  from  the  limited  time  that  I  have  used  it, 
seems  to  be  fully  satisfactory.  At  least  I  have  yet  to  discover 
the  faults  of  it.  Our  worthy  member,  Mr.  Streeter,  has  been 
lately  making  a  very  neat  and  ingenious  set  of  punches  by  which 
circular  rings,  five-eighths  and  three-fourths  of  an  inch  in  diameter, 
can  be  cut  out  of  the  colored  sheets  of  wax  used  by  the  artificial 
flower  makers.  Several  colors  of  this  wax  are  made  in  sheets 
double  thick,  and  if  a  still  greater  thickness  is  desired,  two  or 
more  sheets  may  be  laid  on  top  of  each  other.  These  rings,  if 
cemented  in  any  way  to  the  slide,  make  very  convenient  cells  for 
opaque  mounting.  But  it  occurred  to  me  that  if  they  were  cov- 
ered with  a  coating  of  some  cement,  such  as  marine  glue,  which 
is  unaffected  by  any  of  the  liquids  used  for  preserving  objects, 


150  PREPARATION    OF    OBJECTS    FOR    THE    MICROSCOPE. 

they  would  be  exactly  what  is  wanted  for  fluid  mounting;  for 
the  great  requisite  in  fluid  mounting  is  a  cell  that  is  a  little  soft 
or  yielding,  so  that  the  thin  glass  cover  will  come  down  into  close 
contact  with  the  cell  all  around.  When  this  is  the  case,  you  can 
quickly  take  up  the  fluid  that  runs  out,  with  a  camel's  hair  brush, 
and  at  once  apply  a  coating  of  cement  to  the  edges  of  the  thin 
glass,  and  your  slide  requires  no  further  care.  But  if  the  thin 
glass  cover  does  not  fit  closely  to  a  cell,  the  air  will  be  very  apt 
to  get  in  while  you  are  drying  it ;  and  when  you  come  to  put  on 
the  cement,  that  will  be  almost  sure  to  run  in. 

The  marine  glue,  with  which  I  thought  to  cover  the  wax  cells, 
is  a  composition  of  equal  parts  of  India  rubber  and  shellac,  dis- 
solved in  mineral  naphtha.  It  has  long  been  considered  the  most 
adhesive  and  permanent  cement  that  can  be  made ;  and  from  the 
large  quantity  of  rubber  in  it,  it  would  seem  as  if  it  ought  to  be 
impervious  to  all  the  liquids  used  in  mounting. 

In  applying  these  wax  circles  to  the  slide,  a  little  care  is  neces- 
sary, that  no  air  bubbles  remain  between  the  wax  and  the  glass, 
nor  in  the  cement  which  covers  the  cell.  First,  make  a  ring  of 
cement  on  the  slide,  with  a  small  camel's  hair  brush,  of  the  same 
size  of  the  wax  ring.  Then  lay  on  the  ring,  accurately  centering 
it  on  the  turn  table,  and  press  it  down  under  a  piece  of  writing 
paper  held  on  it  in  such  a  way  that  the  ring  underneath  cannot 
be  displaced.  It  is  well  to  let  this  dry  for  a  day.  Then  cover 
the  top  and  the  edges  of  the  cell  with  one  or  two  coats  of  liquid 
marine  glue,  and  in  two  or  three  days  it  can  be  trimmed  with  the 
point  of  a  knife  blade,  cleaned  and  used  for  mounting. 

As  a  preservative  fluid,  one  can  use  carbolated  water — four  or 
five  drops  of  carbolic  acid  to  each  ounce  of  filtered  water — or 
camphorated  water — that  in  which  a  little  fine  camphor  has  been 
mixed  and  afterwards  filtered — or  any  other  preparation  of  water 
which  will  prevent  fungoid  growths,  or  in  other  words  preserves 
the  objects.  Put  enough  of  the  liquid  in  the  cell  to  fill  it  full, 
immerse  and  arrange  the  objects  in  it,  and  then  let  a  thin  glass 
cover  of  the  proper  size  come  gently  down  on  the  liquid.  It 
will  infallibly  press  out  all  the  air  and  settle  gradually  on  the 
cell  ring,  pushing  out  all  superfluous  fluid.  A  gentle  pressure 


PREPARATION    OF    OBJECTS    FOR    THE    MICROSCOPE.  151 

around  the  edges  will  make  the  glass  attach  itself  to  the  cell  so 
that  it  can  hardly  be  moved.  Then,  with  a  small  camel's  hair 
brush,  take  up  the  outside  fluid,  squeezing  the  brush  between  the 
thumb  and  linger  to  dry  it.  When  as  dry  as  the  brush  will  make 
it,  apply  a  coating  of  the  marine  glue  around  the  edges  of  the 
glass  cover,  and  the  slide  is  finished,  so  far  as  its  safety  and  dur- 
ability is  concerned. 

In  looking  over  and  arranging  my  cabinet  of  specimens  not 
long  since,  I  was  greatly  surprised  at  the  great  number  of  slides 
that  were  merely  opaque  mountings — fully  one-half,  I  should 
say.  Now  this  implies  that  I  have  found  as  much  beauty  in 
natural  unprepared  objects  as  in  those  which  have  been  in  some 
way  carried  through  a  process  of  preparation,  such  as  staining, 
cleaning  in  potash  or  acids,  carrying  through  alcohol  and  turpen- 
tine into  balsam,  etc.  There  is  an  exhaustless  field  of  attractive 
objects  in  the  scales  of  the  insect  tribes,  the  feathers  of  birds, 
the  shells  of  the  protozoans,  the  spore  cases  of  mosses  and  ferns, 
the  hairs  and  glands  of  plant  leaves,  in  seeds  and  pollen.  All 
these  require  mounting  as  opaque  objects ;  and,  in  my  view,  the 
best  way  to  do  it  is  to  make  cells  either  of  shellac  cement  or  of 
the  wax  sheets,  as  I  have  already  described,  and  in  the  center  of 
them  paint  with  Brunswick  black  a  round  disk  three-eighths  or 
one-half  of  an  inch  in  diameter.  On  this  disk,  when  thoroughly 
dry,  fasten  the  object  with  a  minute  drop  of  marine  glue,  and 
fasten  a  thin  glass  cover  on  the  cell  with  the  same  Cement.  With 
this  form  of  mounting,  the  Lieberkuhn  can  be  used  or  not,  as 
one  may  desire.  I  have  found  it  necessary  in  almost  every  case 
of  dry  mounting  to  leave  a  small  opening  into  the  cell,  either  by 
filing  a  little  notch  on  the  ring  and  leaving  this  open  when  the 
cover  is  cemented  on,  or  by  afterwards  pushing  a  small  cambric 
needle  through  the  ring.  If  the  cell  is  hermetically  sealed,  the 
expansion  and  contraction  of  the  air  within,  by  changing  temper- 
ature, seems  to  cause  a  slow  movement  in  the  cements  that  are 
inside  of  it,  no  matter  how  much  they  have  been  previously 
dried.  The  walls  of  the  ring  or  the  finishing  varnishes  will  work 
inward  and  spoil  the  mounting,  or  the  object  will  be  slowly 
immersed  in  the  black  cement  that  forms  the  background.  All 


152  PREPARATION    OF    OBJECTS    FOR    THE   MICROSCOPE. 

these  troubles  seem   to  be  obviated  by  the  minutest  aperture 
opening  into  the  cell. 

I  have  on  several  occasions,  both  here  and  elsewhere,  recom- 
mended the  shellac  cement,  which  is  now  made  by  Mr.  G.  H. 
Haass,  the  druggist,  on  East  Main  Street,  as  the  best  material  for 
building  up  cells  for  dry  mounting.  I  have  never  yet  seen 
occasion  to  change  my  opinion  in  regard  to  it.  The  cells  are 
beautiful,  durable  and  tough  as  horn  when  thoroughly  dry.  The 
cement  is  so  easily  managed,  can  be  so  readily  worked  up  into  a 
ring  with  the  point  of  a  knife  blade  on  the  turn  table,  that  I 
would  think  almost  any  one  could  easily  acquire  the  skill  or 
knack  of  making  the  cells.  I  have  made  many  hundreds  of 
them,  and  I  know  they  cost  me  less  labor  and  time  than  any 
other  cell  that  is  made.  I  always  carry  along  two  dozen  at  a 
time,  first  laying  the  foundation  of  the  rings,  making  them  of  the 
right  size  in  diameter  and  breadth,  then  afterwards,  with  a  day 
or  two  of  interval  each  time,  making  successive  additions  to  them 
until  they  are  of  the  required  depth.  One  hour's  time  is  suffi- 
cient for  each  operation  with  the  whole  two  dozen ;  and  four 
times  going  over  them  would  make  the  deepest  cells  that  one 
would  ever  have  occasion  to  use.  Thus  it  takes  me  only  ten 
minutes  in  all,  and  at  the  most,  for  the  making  of  each  cell,  and 
it  does  not  require  any  subsequent  painting  or  fixing  up.  After 
the  mounting  is  completed  however,  I  usually  finish  around  the 
outside  with  balsam,  turning  it  up  trim  and  true  with  the  knife 
point  on  the  turn  table. 

As  I  desire  these  remarks  to  be  a  pretty  full  expression  of  my 
views  and  experience  in  the  higher  forms  of  mounting,  I  cannot 
omit  speaking  a  few  words  in  regard  to  a  certain  cement  which 
has  been  recommended  to  you  for  cells  for  fluid  mounting,  on  the 
authority  of  Dr.  Hunt,  of  Philadelphia.  It  is  white  zinc  mixed 
with  gum  dammar  dissolved  in  benzole.  Now  every  preparer  of 
slides  would  hail  with  delight  a  white  cement  that  was  safe  to 
use  in  all  cases,  but  unfortunately  no  cement  can  be  made  white 
without  the  mixture  in  it  of  solid  particles,  particles  that  do  not 
dissolve,  that  settle  to  the  bottom  of  your  vials.  It  is  a  mechan- 
ical mixture,  and  no  cement  is  safe  to  use  in  contact  with  liquids 


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PREPARATION    OF    OBJECTS    FOR    THE    MICROSCOPE.  153 

of  any  kind,  that  is  not  a  thorough  and  complete  solution  in  all 
its  parts.  This  is  the  experience  of  all  microscopists.  Dr.  Car- 
penter, who  as  you  know  is  no  mean  authority,  says :  "  The 
varnishes  used  for  mounting  objects  in  liquid  should  always  be 
such  as  contain  no  mixture  of  solid  particles.  This  is  a  principle 
on  which  the  author  from  an  experience  of  many  years  is 
disposed  to  lay  great  stress."  He  says,  "that  he  has  always 
found  that  such  cements  (mechanical  mixtures),  although  they 
may  stand  well  for  a  few  weeks  or  months,  become  porous  after 
a  greater  lapse  of  time,  allowing  the  evaporation  of  the  liquid 
and  the  admission  of  air."  White  zinc  cement  may  answer  for 
finishing  purposes,  if  used  with  great  caution ;  but  it  is  at  best 
a  very  treacherous  material,  insidiously  working  its  way  into 
places  where  it  has  no  business  to  be.  It  has  caused  more  failures 
than  any  other  material  we  work  with.  I  know  that  nine-tenths 
of  my  lame  ducks  have  white  feet. 

In  conclusion  I  would  remark  that  there  is  a  strange  fascina- 
tion in  the  art  of  the  microscopist.  It  has  been  the  life  work  of 
many  men  of  cultivated  and  superior  minds.  It  has  been  the 
recreation  of  a  vast  number  of  scientific  and  professional  men. 
Those  who  have  once  taken  it  up  in  the  love  of  it,  have  seldom 
laid  it  aside.  There  is  in  it  the  widest  field  for  the  display  of 
ingenuity  and  artistic  taste,  together  with  the  fullest  scope  for 
research  and  new  discoveries.  To  the  gratification  of  accom- 
plishing a  new  process  or  of  finding  a  new  object  of  interest  or 
beauty,  there  is  added  the  highest  incentive  which  is  now  left  to 
the  man  of  science — that  of  searching  out  the  secrets  of  nature 
on  the  border-land  of  the  invisible.  Be  assured  that  the  field  of 
labor  and  research  to  which  this  evening  I  seek  to  incite  your 
exertion  and  your  emulation,  is  at  once  the  most  fascinating,  the 
most  important,  and  the  most  honorable  of  the  occupations  of 
cultured  minds. 


THE   PREPARATION  AND   MOUNTING  OF 
DOUBLE    STAININGS.* 


There  is  no  art  of  the  microscopist  more  beautiful  and  inter- 
esting than  that  of  bleaching  and  re-coloring  vegetable  tissues. 
In  no  other  way  can  the  wonderful  processes  of  plant  growth  be 
made  manifest  under  the  microscope.  Therefore,  any  sugges- 
tions tending  to  simplify  the  art  and  make  it  more  generally 
practicable,  will  be  of  interest  to  all  workers  in  microscopic 
preparations.  In  my  experiments  with  double  staining  I  have 
found  that  different  colors,  or  at  least  different  pigments,  vary 
greatly  in  the  activity  or  penetrating  power  with  which  they 
affect  vegetable  substances.  Thus,  an  object  prepared  for  stain- 
ing may  be  left  in  a  strong  solution  of  carmine  for  a  day  without 
having  all  its  parts  colored ;  whereas  in  a  logwood  or  analine 
dye  of  equal  strength,  it  would  be  colored  perfectly  opaque  in 
less  than  an  hour.  By  taking  advantage  of  this  fact  and 
immersing  objects,  first  in  the  color  having  the  slowest  action, 
then  in  another  of  greater  activity,  and  so  on,  double  or  even 
multiple  staining  becomes  a  simple  process,  instead  of  the  very 
difficult  and  complicated  one  which  has  been  published  in  our 
magazines. 

I  will  give  the  general  details  of  the  operation  as  I  have  now 
practised  it  for  some  little  time.  I  do  not  claim  that  exactly  the 
same  formula  will  answer  for  all  kinds  of  plant  specimens,  or 
that  all  the  colors  given  below  should  be  used  in  all  cases.  I 
merely  give  a  general  formula,  which  each  operator  will  find  it 
necessary  to  vary  somewhat  according  to  the  results  of  his 
experimenting.  If  I  succeed  in  stimulating  others  to  more 
detailed  work,  by  showing  how  simple  the  process  is  in  most 
cases,  I  will  have  accomplished  my  purpose.  All  vegetable 
preparations,  whether  parts  of  leaves  or  sections  of  stems,  should 
first  be  fully  decolorized  in  the  common  chlorinated  soda  solution, 

*  A  Paper  read  before  the  National  Microscopical  Congress,  held  at  Buffalo, 
August,  1878,  and  published  in  its  Proceedings. 


156          PREPARATION    AND    MOUNTING    OF    DOUBLE    STAINING S. 

sold  by  all  druggists  as  a  disinfectant.  This  result  will  be 
accomplished  in  most  cases  in  about  one  day.  Then,  after  being 
thoroughly  washed  in  pure  water,  the  preparations  should  be 
placed  in  a  solution  of  carmine  of  about  the  consistence  of  com- 
mon carmine  ink ;  and  they  may  remain  in  this  for  a  day.  Pure 
carmine  will  readily  dissolve  in  water  with  a  few  drops  of  aqua- 
ammonia  in  it.  After  being  washed  in  two  or  three  changes  of 
pure  water,  the  objects  may  now  be  placed  in  a  somewhat  weaker 
solution  of  extract  of  logwood  in  alum  water.  A  small  quantity 
of  alum  in  the  water  is  sufficient  to  effect,  at  least  with  the  aid 
of  heat,  the  solution  of  the  logwood.  This  should  be  filtered, 
not  old  at  the  time  of  use,  and  of  a  strength  not  more  than  half 
that  of  common  writing  ink.  In  this  solution  the  objects  may 
remain  from  fifteen  to  thirty  minutes,  according  to  the  delicacy 
of  the  specimens.  If  the  color  should  appear  to  be  too  deep  or 
opaque,  it  may  be  partly  removed  by  soaking  in  pure  alum  water. 
Then,  after  washing  again  in  several  waters  to  remove  all  trace 
of  the  alum,  place  the  objects  in  alcohol  for  a  short  time,  and 
then  into  a  weak  solution  of  aniline  blue  in  alcohol.  In  this 
they  may  remain  an  hour  or  two,  or  until  all  the  parts  not 
previously  stained  are  colored  blue.  If  on  trial  the  blue  should 
appear  to  be  too  deep,  it  may  be  partially  removed  by  soaking 
for  a  time  in  pure  alcohol.  It  sometimes  happens  that  even 
aniline  blue  will  riot  color  all  the  parts  of  vegetable  substances, 
such  as  large  glandular  or  stellate  hairs.  In  this  case  an  immer- 
sion for  a  minute  or  two  in  a  very  weak  solution  of  aniline  green 
in  alcohol  will  accomplish  the  work.  Green  is  the  most  power- 
fully absorbent  color  that  I  know  of;  and  should  be  used  with 
caution,  as  it  would  soon  spoil  a  staining. 

From  alcohol  the  objects  may  be  removed  directly  to  turpen- 
tine. I  do  not  like  the  action  of  oil  of  cloves.  It  shrivels  up 
the  tender  tissues  and  gives  them  the  appearance  of  being 
burned.  Besides,  it  is  not  necessary  as  an  intermediary  between 
alcohol  and  turpentine.  After  a  day's  immersion  in  turpentine 
the  preparations  will  be  ready  for  mounting  in  Canada  balsam. 
Vegetable  preparations  have  quite  an  appreciable  thickness,  and 
unless  some  special  care  is  taken  of  them  after  being  mounted  in 
balsam,  it  will  be  found  that  air  will  quite  often  work  in  under 


PREPARATION    AND    MOUNTING    OF    DOUBLE    STAININGS.          157 

the  cover.  Therefore,  as  soon  as  a  balsam  mounting  is  dry  enough 
to  have  the  superfluous  balsam  cleaned  off  with  the  point  of  a 
knife  around  the  thin  glass  cover,  which  will  be  in  two  or  three 
days,  especially  if  aided  by  heat,  a  light  coating  of  shellac 
cement,  colored  with  aniline  blue  or  red,  riot  green  or  yellow, 
can  be  spread  with  a  camel's  hair  brush  around  the  edge  of  the 
cover,  and  the  next  day  another  coating,  and  perhaps  the  third 
day  another  still.  In  this  way  the  cover  will  soon  be  firmly  set 
and  can  be  cleaned ;  and  the  slide  is  a  permanent  mounting  in 
much  shorter  time  than  if  left  simply  for  the  balsam  to  dry  hard ; 
and  there  is  no  risk  of  air  working  in  from  the  drying  of  the 
balsam.  Canada  balsam  is  by  far  the  best  and  safest  medium  in 
which  to  mount  all  stained  preparations  that  will  bear  this 
mounting.  But  there  are  many,  such  as  those  with  delicate 
hairs  or  glands,  or  with  fine  cellular  markings,  that  will  not 
show  to  advantage  in  so  refractive  a  medium  as  balsam.  These 
may  be  removed  from  alcohol  into  water  containing  three  or 
four  drops  of  carbolic  acid  to  the  ounce  of  water.  It  will  be 
necessary  also  to  mount  them  in  the  same  fluid  in  the  cells. 
Well  dried  shellac  cells  may  be  used ;  and  if  the  tops  are  made 
perfectly  level  by  holding  a  bit  of  fine  sand  paper  on  them  while 
being  turned  on  the  turn-table,  the  thin  glass  cover  will  fit 
closely,  pressing  out  the  superfluous  water,  which  can  be  taken 
up  with  a  camel's  hair  brush.  When  well  dried  in  this  way,  a 
little  gold  size  can  be  applied  to  the  edges  with  perfect  safety 
against  its  running  in.  A  very  simple  and  almost  universally 
applicable  cell  I  have  recently  made  in  the  following  manner : 
My  friend  Win.  Streeter,  foreman  in  the  works  of  Sargent  & 
Greenleaf,  of  Rochester,  makes  a  neat  little  double  punch  for 
the  purpose  of  cutting  out  narrow  circles  from  the  thin  colored 
sheets  of  wax  used  by  artificial  flower-makers.  Either  single, 
doubled  or  three-folded  sheets  can  be  used,  according  to  the 
thickness  of  cell  that  may  be  required.  These  circles  may  be 
fastened  on  the  slide,  either  by  shellac  cement  or  by  simply 
warming  the  slide.  Then  over  all  the  cell,  both  inside  and  out, 
a  coating  of  gold  size  or  of  marine  glue  dissolved  in  coal  naphtha, 
must  be  spread  with  a  camel's  hair  brush.  When  this  is  dry  we 
have  a  cell  beautifully  colored,  and  proof  against  all  the  fluid 


158         PREPARATION    AND    MOUNTING    OF    DOUBLE    STAININGS. 

media  which  one  may  have  occasion  to  use  in  mounting.  Besides, 
the  cell  is  always  soft  enough  to  have  the  thin  glass  cover  pressed 
into  perfect  contact  with  it  all  around,  which  is  the  great  requis- 
ite in  all  fluid  mountings.  It  should  afterward  be  finished  on 
the  outside  with  Brunswick  black  or  shellac  cement  to  form  a 
firm  support  to  the  thin  glass  cover. 


REPLY  TO  THE   QUESTIONS   RAISED  IN  THE  DISCUSSION 
'OF  THE  PAPER. 

In  answer  to  the  objections  which  have  been  made  to  the  use 
of  chlorinated  soda,  on  the  ground  that  it  is  liable  to  destroy 
the  structure  of  tender  vegetable  substances,  I  wTould  say  that  if 
leaves  are  dried  and  pressed,  or  stems  are  first  dried  and  then 
soaked  before  cutting  into  sections,  they  will  not  be  injuriously 
affected  by  the  soda  solution.  At  least  that  has  been  my  experi- 
ence. I  am  informed  however  that  there  are  preperations  sold 
under  the  name  of  chlorinated  soda,  which  are  imperfectly  sat- 
urated with  chlorine  ;  and  consequently  are  still  strongly  alkaline. 
These  would  naturally  have  the  effect  to  destroy  organic  struc- 
tures. Moreover,  if  this  solution  is  exposed  much  to  the  light 
there  is  a  precipitate  formed  and  deposited,  which  may  leave  the 
fluid  more  strongly  alkaline  and  therefore  more  destructive  in 
its  effects  upon  vegetable  tissues.  The  preparation  known  as 
Labarraque's  fluid,  imported  from  France,  is  perhaps  the  most 
reliable  for  bleaching  purposes,  though  somewhat  more  expensive 
than  the  home-made  chlorinated  soda  solution. 

In  regard  to  decolorizing  vegetable  substances  by  soaking  in 
alcohol,  this  may  be  very  well  with  thin  and  tender  specimens, 
and  where  the  object  is  to  exhibit  the  cell  contents ;  but  where 
the  object  is  to  show  the  cellular  structure  or  the  fibro-vascular 
tissues,  I  think  that  the  results  will  be  more  satisfactory  in  the 
use  of  the  stronger  chlorinated  solution,  which  removes  entirely 
the  cell  contents,  and  makes  the  specimen  more  transparent,  and 
in  my  view  far  more  beautiful. 


SOME  NEW  FORMS  OF  MOUNTING.* 


I  have  the  pleasure  of  offering,  as  my  contribution  to  the 
Microscopical  Congress,  a  brief  description  of  some  recent 
methods  which  I  have  used  in  the  preparation  of  slides.  The 
cement  which  is  essential  to  these  processes,  and  which  I  regard 
as  the  most  important  working  material  of  the  microscopist,  is 
shellac  varnish,  prepared  in  the  following  simple  manner  :  The 
white  clarified  stick-shellac  is  dissolved  in  alcohol,  and  filtered 
through  cotton  once  or  more  times  until  it  is  quite  clear  and 
transparent.  As  the  filtering  is  a  somewhat  difficult  operation, 
it  will  probably  be  best  for  most  persons  wanting  it,  to  let  the 
druggist  make  this  preparation  for  them.  With  this  cement  I 
build  up  a  cell  as  deep,  and  perhaps  as  quickly,  as  one  can  be 
made  with  a  curtain  ring,  painted  up  as  it  usually  is.  As  much 
as  one  or  two  drops  of  the  cement  can  be  put  on  a  slide  with  a 
brush,  using  the  turn-table,  and  then  slowly  worked  up  into  a 
narrow  ring  with  the  point  of  a  small  knife-blade  held  on  the 
turning  slide.  When  this  has  dried  a  day  or  two,  another  layer 
can  be  put  on  and  worked  up  in  the  same  way.  Three  or  four 
such  layers  will  be  sufficient  for  almost  any  cell,  and  it  can  then 
be  dried  in  the  heating  oven  and  laid  aside  for  future  use.  By 
carrying  along  a  dozen  or  two  slides  at  a  time,  one  will  find  great 
economy  both  of  time  and  labor.  These  rings,  being  transparent, 
are  admirably  adapted  for  opaque  mountings  that  may  be  used 
with  the  Lieberkuhn. 

If  common  curtain  rings  are  cemented  to  slides  with  the 
shellac  cement  colored  with  aniline  blue,  the  joined  edges  of  the 
brass  film  of  which  they  are  made  being  on  the  glass,  and  then 

*  A  Paper  read  before  the  National  Microscopical  Congress,  held  at  Indian- 
apolis, August,  1879,  and  published  in  its  Proceedings. 


160  SOME    NEW    FORMS    OF    MOUNTING. 

subjected  to  a  slowly  increasing  heat  until  the  cement  begins  to 
burn,  a  very  beautiful  appearance  is  given  to  the  under  side  of 
the  ring,  a  circle  of  minute  golden  links,  as  seen  in  the  specimens 
which  I  offer  for  your  inspection.  These  rings  can  then  be 
painted  on  the  turn-table  according  to  one's  fancy,  and  used  as 
cells  for  any  kind  of  mounting. 

I  use  this  cement,  colored  with  the  various  aniline  dyes  which 
are  soluble  in  alcohol,  for  painting  and  finishing  slides.  These 
colors  are  far  superior,  for  all  purposes  of  ornamentation,  to  any 
other  materials  or  devices  of  painting.  They  dry  quickly,  and 
adhere  to  glass  with  greater  tenacity  than  any  other  cements  that 
I  have  ever  used. 

For  a  cell  that  will  perfectly  withstand  the  action  of  Canada 
balsam  or  turpentine,  I  make  use  of  shellac  cement  colored  with 
aniline  blue,  in  the  following  manner :  After  a  cell  of  the 
required  depth  has  been  made  on  the  slide,  and  pretty  thoroughly 
dried  in  the  usual  way,  it  is  heated  on  the  heating  table,  lightly 
at  first,  in  order  to  avoid  bubbles,  then  gradually  increasing  the 
heat  until  the  cement  commences  to  smoke  and  the  color  to  burn 
out.  By  heating  one  side  of  the  ring  a  very  little  more  than  the 
other,  as  may  be  done  over  an  alcohol  lamp,  a  part  may  be  left 
blue,  while  the  rest  is  yellow  or  reddish,  which  has  a  very  pretty 
effect  under  Canada  balsam.  These  cells  are  hard  as  bone,  and 
can  scarcely  be  cut  from  the  glass.  Balsam  has  no  effect  on 
them  whatever.  Slides  may  be  finished  off  outside  with 
liquid  balsam,  made  true  and  circular  with  the  point  of  a  knife 
on  the  turn-table.  In  a  few  days,  or  in  a  shorter  time  by  using 
the  oven,  they  will  be  ready  to  clean  and  lay  away.  The  cells 
which  I  have  described  are  the  only  cement  cells  that  can  be 
used  with  Canada  balsam.  They  are  particularly  adapted  to 
vegetable  stainings,  algae,  and  other  preparations,  either  too  thick 
or  too  tender  to  be  mounted  in  balsam  without  something  to 
sustain  the  thin  glass  covers. 

In  opaque  mountings,  where  cements  of  any  kind  are  used 
either  for  backgrounds  or  to  hold  objects  in  place,  I  have  found 
it  highly  advantageous  to  leave  on  or  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
ring,  a  minute  aperture  opening  into  the  cell,  not  necessarily 


SOME    NEW    FORMS'  OF    MOUNTING.  161 

larger  than  a  fine  cambric  needle  would  make.  With  this  pro- 
vision both  the  cell  and  the  cements  go  on  drying,  and  there  is 
no  sinking  in  nor  moving  about  of  the  objects  in  the  cements 
which  hold  them.  But  if  the  cell  be  hermetically  closed,  one 
may  almost  certainly  expect  that  the  beautiful  shell  or  other 
object  will  sooner  or  later  be  overwhelmed  in  a  black  sea.  I* 
have  lost  in  this  way  scores  of  foraminifera  and  coralline  speci- 
mens on  which  I  had  expended  a  great  deal  of  labor.  If  curtain 
rings  are  used  for  the  cell,  a  little  notch  can  be  filed  in  the  under 
side  of  it,  and  this  be  left  open  on  the  lower  side  of  the  slide 
when  finished. 

If  the  opaque  mountings  are  for  dry  objects,  I  make  in  the 
center  of  the  ring  a  disk  of  Brunswick  black,  or  white  zinc,  ac- 
cording as  the  object  to  be  shown  is  white  or  dark.  It  may  be 
5-16  of  an  inch  in  diameter  for  the  Lieberkuhn  of  the  1^  inch 
objective,  but  not  over  a  quarter  of  an  inch  for  that  of  the  two- 
thirds  objective.  After  the  cement  is  dry  and  quite  hard,  a 
•slight  coat  of  balsam  is  spread  over  it,  and  the  objects  placed  in 
this  and  arranged,  if  necessary,  under  the  microscope.  The  slide 
is  then  set  aside  to  dry,  and  may  be  covered  safely  the  next  day. 

If  the  objects  to  be  mounted  will  bear  immersion  in  balsam, 
as  shells,  plant  seeds,  minerals,  etc.,  I  pursue  the  following  plan : 
The  thin  glass  covers  are  cemented  to  some  old  slips,  which  aret 
kept  for  that  purpose,  by  two  or  three  touches  of  balsam  applied 
at  the  edge  of  the  cover.  Care  is  taken  in  this,  and  in  all  cases, 
to  accurately  center  all  work  on  the  slides  by  means  of  the  self- 
centering  turn-table.  Then,  on  a  light  coating  of  balsam  in  the 
center  of  the  cover,  the  objects,  whatever  they  may  be,  are  placed 
and  arranged.  When  quite  dry,  and  the 'objects  are  thus  securely 
fastened,  they  may  be  completely  covered  by  balsam,  and  put 
into  the  drying  oven  until  thoroughly  hardened.  Then,  over  the 
balsam,  Brunswick  black,  if  the  objects  are  white,  or  white  zinc 
cement,  if  they  are  dark  or  high  colored,  may  be  spread,  by  thin 
layers  at  first,  each  being  dried  in  the  open  air  for  a  day  before 
the  next  is  applied,  until  there  is  an  opaque  covering  to  the  ob- 
jects. The  thin  glass  cover  is  now  to  be  thoroughly  cleaned 
around  the  objects  and  then  removed  from  the  slip  by  a  slight 


162  SOME   NEW    FORMS    OF    MOUNTING.  • 

heating,  just  sufficient  to  loosen  it.  It  can  then  be  turned  over 
and  mounted  on  the  cell  designed  for  it. 

The  best  preparation  for  fastening  the  cover  to  the  cell  is  gela- 
tine, dissolved  in  water,  with  enough  alcohol  added  to  liquify  it 
from  the  jelly  state.  I  place  the  thin  glass  on  the  cell,  and  then 
apply  the  gelatine  solution  with  a  brush  around  the  edges,  leav- 
ing the  little  opening  on  the  lower  side.  Just  enough  of  the 
water  cement  seems  to  run  in  under  the  glass,  and  to  dry  just 
where  it  is  placed.  Afterwards  the  cell  may  be  finished  with 
liquid  balsam,  carefully  avoiding  the  little  aperture,  and  the 
outer  edge  gathered  up  into  a  neat  trim  little  circle,  with  the 
point  of  a  knife  on  the  turn-table. 

The  last  and  most  important  recommendation  which  I  have  to 
make,  is  the  strict  observance  of  every  rule  and  precaution  tend- 
ing to  neatness  and  cleanliness.  There  is  a  world  of  beauty  and 
delight  in  the  revelations  of  the  microscope;  and  there  is  a 
peculiar  fitness  that  all  the  surroundings  should  be  likewise 
lovely.  Whenever  I  receive  a  mounted  object  disfigured  with 
dirt  or  fibres,  with  ragged  or  unfinished  settings,  I  write  another 
name  in  the  already  very  considerable  list  of  "Exchangers  to  be 
avoided." 


THE    MICROSCOPE  AND   ITS   PREPARATIONS/ 


The  more  I  study  the  wonderful  revelations  of  the  microscope, 
the  more  I  seem  to  realize  that  there  are  two  distinct  worlds  of 
vision,  with  a  well-defined  line  of  demarkatiori  between  them. 
The  one  is  the  world  of  our  natural  vision — the  beautiful  display 
of  nature  which  is  ever  before  our  eyes.  The  other  is  the  world 
which  the  powers  of  magnified  vision  have  in  these  latter  days 
unfolded  to  us.  The  things  which  are  beautiful  and  interesting 
to  the  unaided  eye,  are  not  the  things  which  are  beautiful  and 
interesting  under  the  microscope. 

The  exquisitely  colored  plumage  of  some  birds,  even  the  bril- 
liant feathers  on  the  breasts  of  tropical  humming-birds,  are  coarse 
and  unattractive  objects  when  magnified  sufficiently  to  bring  out 
their  true  structure.  IsTot  that  the  feathers  of  birds  do  not  fur- 
nish some  very  beautiful  microscopic  objects.  The  structure  of 
the  fibers  of  the  minute  down  feathers  of  some  birds,  composed 
of  little  cones,  the  black  point  of  each  just  inserted  into  the 
white  mouth  of  the  one  next  below  it,  the  exceedingly  minute 
booklets  and  barbed  fibrils  which  unite  the  edges  of  the  vanes  of 
common  feathers,  are  striking  and  interesting  objects.  But  they 
are  not  the  things  that  contribute  to  the  visible  attractions  of 
the  feathered  tribes. 

The  gaudy  colors  on  the  wings  of  butterflies  are  among  the 
coarsest  and  most  ill-defined  of  objects  under  low  powers  of  the 
microscope.  But  the  exquisitely  wrought  and  beautifully  paint- 
ed scales  which  the  high  powers  bring  out,  regularly  laid  like 
tiles  on  both  sides  of  the  wings,  and  which  the  naked  eye  fails  to 

*  Lecture  written  in  1881,  and  read  before  various  societies,  with  exhibition 
of  specimens. 


164  THE   MICROSCOPE    AND    ITS    PREPARATIONS. 

discover  except  as  the  finest  dust,  are  objects  which  once  seen 
will  never  be  forgotten. 

The  ever  varied  and  delightful  colorings  of  the  flowers  have 
no  beauty  under  the  microscope.  But  if  you  examine  those 
gaily  colored  stamens  and  pistils  under  a  magnifying  power  of 
about  a  hundred  diameters,  you  will  see,  adhering  to  them  in 
myriads,  minute  grains  of  pollen  of  exquisite  pattern  and  beauty. 
They  are  the  object  of  all  the  growth  and  the  display  of  the 
flowers;  but  are  things  which  no  eye  had  seen,  save  as  an  impal- 
pable powder,  until  the  microscope  revealed  them. 

So  through  all  the  list  of  objects  in  nature,  with  hardly  an  ex- 
ception, the  things  which  strike  our  eyes  and  that  we  call  so 
beautiful,  are  not  the  things  which  will  bear  the  enlargement  of 
microscopic  vision.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  there  is  a  natural 
boundary — a  line  of  demarkation — between  these  two  realms  of 
vision  ;  as  if  each  had  been  produced  for  its  own  particular  and 
separate  purpose.  We  can  readily  understand  the  reason  of  the 
development  of  that  which  through  all  time  has  pleased  or  served 
the  eye  of  man.  Every  thing  in  nature,  it  is  said,  at  least  in  or- 
ganic nature,  has  its  utility,  its  adaptation  to  some  useful  end. 
But  of  what  use  could  be  the  production  or  development  of  colors 
or  forms  or  beauties,  other  than  such  as  can  be  seen  by  ordinary 
eyes?  And  there  are  no  indications,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  upon 
optical  principles  or  by  comparative  anatomy,  that  any  other 
eyes  see  images  much  more  magnified  than  do  ours.  I  may  then 
propound  the  questions  which  have  so  often  puzzled  me :  "Why 
was  this  nether  world,  this  microscopic  world,  which  is  vaster  in 
its  limits  and  more  wonderful  than  the  other,  which  no  eye  had 
seen  or  could  see,  before  the  invention  of  compound  lenses  some 
three  hundred  years. ago,  why  or  how  was  this  world  ever  brought 
into  being,  at  least  in  such  beauty  and  marvelousness  ?  Why  the 
almost  inconceivably  minute  and  accurate  rulings  and  curves  and 
radials  on  the  shells  of  the  lowly  diatoms,  when  there  were  no 
senses  that  could  perceive  them  ?  Why  the  complicate  clottings 
and  etchings  on  the  almost  invisible  scales  of  the  insect  tribes, 
when  there  was  no  vision  in  the  world  that  could  see  them  ? 
But  children  can  ask  questions  which  the  philosophers  cannot 


THE    MICROSCOPE    AND    ITS    PREPARATIONS.  165 

answer ;  and  so  far  as  I  know,  I  have  just  been  asking  precisely 
such  questions. 

There  is  a  lively  little  insect,  the  largest  of  which  is  not  more 
than  the  tenth  of  an  inch  long,  called  the  Spring-tail  or  Podnra, 
found  in  damp  saw-dust  in  wine  cellars,  or  in  any  moist  and  pro- 
tected places  near  decaying  wood.  You  may  catch  or  collect 
them  by  sprinkling  a  little  flour  on  a  piece  of  paper  and  placing 
it  near  their  resorts.  The  body  of  this  insect  is  covered  with 
minute  scales,  remarkable  for  their  almost  infinitesimal  markings. 
The  finest  line  that  can  be  made,  visible  to  the  unaided  eye,  is 
about  the  250th  of  an  inch  in  breadth.  The  rulings  on  writing 
paper  are  at  least  five  times  as  broad,  or  about  the  50th  of  an 
inch  in  width.  Now  across  that  finest  line,  which  you  can  only 
see  as  a  mere  mark  without  breadth  at  all,  as  many  as  four  or  five 
of  these  Podura  scales  could  be  placed  side  by  side.  And  across 
each  scale  in  waving  lines  are  rows  of  forty  or  fifty  dashes,  like 
exclamation  points,  side  by  side.  This  makes  them,  as  you  may 
readily  figure,  about  50,000  to  the  inch.  This  Podura  scale  used 
to  be  the  test  for  the  highest  powers  of  the  microscope ;  but  now 
object  glasses  are  made  of  such  perfection  that  test  objects 
of  double  that  number  of  lines  to  the  inch  are  required.  These 
are  found  in  the  shells  of  a  certain  diatom,  the  Amphipleura 
pellucida,  found  quite  common  in  almost  any  pool  or  rivulet. 
The  rulings  or  striae  running  across  the  frustules  of  this  diatom 
are  as  fine  as  anything  that  has  as  yet  been  found  in  nature,  ex- 
ceeding in  some  cases  100,000  to  the  inch.  Yet  Dr.  Woodward, 
of  Washington,  has  repeatedly  photographed  portions  of  this 
shell,  showing  distinctly  and  clearly  markings  so  fine  that  400  of 
them  might  be  drawn  lengthwise  on  the  finest  line  that  you  can 
see  with  the  naked  eye. 

But  I  did  not  come  before  you  to-night  to  speak  of  the  most 
difficult  of  the  objects  which  this  instrument  resolves ;  but 
rather  of  the  beautiful  and  interesting  preparations,  requiring 
not  nearly  so  high  a  power  and  satisfying  something  more  than 
curiosity.  I  am  myself  inclined  to  search  for  the  attractive  and 
the  beautiful  for  exhibition  with  the  microscope ;  and  whenever 
I  find  anything  that  satisfies  in  those  respects,  I  am  very  apt  to 


166  THE    MICROSCOPE    AND    ITS    PREPARATIONS. 

make  a  study  of  it— to  find  out  all  I  can  of  its  intimate  structure, 
and  of  the  life  history  connected  with  it  if  it  is  an  organism. 
So  if  there  is  anything  of  interest  to  you  in  my  talk  this  evening 
it  must  come  from  these  special  studies. 

When  I  came  home  from  Florida  last  winter,  I  brought  with  me 
some  herbarium  specimens  of  nearly  all  the  insectivorous  plants 
—those  which  catch  and  digest  insects  in  some  way  or  other  as 
a  part  of  their  food.  Among  them  are  these  leaves  of  the 
Pitcher  plant,  some  species  of  which  you  have  probably  all  seen. 
This  is  the  Sarracenia  variolaris  which  grows  only  in  the  Southern 
States  that  are  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  The  leaves  are  composed 
of  a  hollow  conical  tube  running  down  to  a  point  on  the  stem,  of 
a  projecting  wing  or  flange  which  follows  all  the  way  up  on  the 
inner  side  of  the  leaf,  and  of  a  hood  which  in  this  species  arches 
over  the  entire  opening  of  the  tube.  This  tube  during  the 
growing  season  is  usually  nearly  full  of  water,  which  we  must 
suppose  to  be  secreted  and  furnished  by  the  leaf  itself,  because 
the  hood  would  effectually  keep  out  all  rain  water.  At  the  bot- 
tom of  the  tube  is  a  perfect  mass  of  the  hard  and  indigestible 
parts  of  insects — heads  by  the  hundreds — a  veritable  Golgotha 
of  skulls.  Now  it  is  evident  that  there  must  be  something  about 
these  leaves  that  is  very  attractive  to  insects,  in  order  to  make 
them  go  in  under  that  suspicious  looking  monk's-hood  ;  and  then 
some  further  peculiarity  that  makes  them  fall  in  such  numbers 
into  the  well  below.  Insects  do  not  drop  into  ordinary  receptacles 
of  water  in  that  way ;  for  if  they  did  there  would  soon  be  none 
left  to  fall  into  anything. 

Mrs.  Treat,  of  Yineland,  N.  J.,  who  is  quite  an  observer  and 
writer  on  the  insectivorous  plants,  says  that  the  edge  of  the  wing 
secretes  a  sweet  and  intoxicating  fluid  which,  as  the  flies  drink  it, 
and  at  the  same  time  crawl  up  the  blade,  gradually  inebriates 
them  until,  as  they  rise  over  the  lid  of  the  tube,  they  tumble 
headlong  into  the  well  beneath.  I  do  not  myself  think  it  is 
necessary  to  suppose  anything  more  than  an  ordinary  sweet 
secretion  from  the  glands  which  are  specially  numerous  under 
the  hood  and  all  around  the  mouth  of  the  tube.  When  I  show 
you,  under  the  microscope,  the  formidable  array  of  bristling 


THE    MICROSCOPE    AND    ITS    PREPARATIONS.  167 

spikes  and  pointed  scales  which  lines  the  whole  inside  of  the 
tube,  all  pointing  downwards,  and  especially  the  strong  pike- 
pointed  lances  which  are  thickly  set  under  the  hood  and  on  the 
inner  margins  of  the  lid,  all  pointing  backward  and  downward, 
you  will  not  wonder  that  when  a  fly  has  once  entered  those 
horrid  portals  he  is  inevitably  lost.  There  is  only  one  way  for 
him  to  go,  and  that  is  straight  downward.  I  could  not  imagine 
a  more  perfect  fly-trap,  a  more  dangerous  den  for  an  unwary  in- 
sect to  get  into.  And  I  have  no  doubt  that  many  a  poor  fly  at 
the  bottom  of  that  charnel  house  has  recalled  his  Virgil : 

"  Facilis  descensus  averno  est; 
Sed  revocare  gradum — hoc  opum,  hie  labor  est." 

To  help  you  that  are  not  versed  in  fly-talk,  shall  I  give  you 
Dryden's  beautiful  translation  of  that  passage  ? 

" The  gates  of  hell  are  open  night  and  day; 
Smooth  the  descent,  and  easy  is  the  way : 
But  to  return,  and  view  the  cheerful  skies — 
In  this  the  task  and  mighty  labor  lies." 

In  order  to  make  the  structure  of  the  inside  of  the  pitcher 
plant  leaf  at  all  apparent  and  in  condition  to  be  seen,  I  was 
obliged  not  only  to  remove  the  original  coloring  matter  of  the 
leaf  by  soaking  in  chlorinated  soda,  but  also  to  separate  the  inner 
cuticle  or  skin,  which  holds  all  the  hairs  and  spikes  and  glands, 
from  the  rest  of  the  leaf  by  immersion  for  a  time  in  a  weak 
solution  of  potash.  Of  course  the  cuticle,  thus  prepared,  has  to 
be  again  artificially  colored  in  anilines  or  other  colors,  in  order 
to  make  the  different  parts  and  structures  distinguishable. 

The  Utricularia,  or  Bladder-wort,  is  another  very  singular 
insectivorous  plant.  It  grows  on  the  water,  on  the  surface  of 
shallow  ponds,  but  is  not  rooted  to  the  ground.  It  spreads  out 
from  five  to  seven  leaves,  like  the  spokes  of  a  wheel,  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  and  these  are  buoyed  up  by  numerous  little 
air  bladders.  From  the  center  of  these  leaves  the  plant  sends 
upwards  its  flower  stalk,  and  downwards  its  root-like  branches. 
These  latter  bear,  among  their  finely  branching  fibers,  great 
numbers  of  little  egg-shaped  bladders  or  utricles,  not  larger  than 
the  head  of  a  pin.  These  bladders  have  at  one  end  a  cunningly 
arranged  mouth,  or  rather  lid,  opening  inwards,  and  surrounded 


168  THE    MICROSCOPE    AND    ITS    PREPARATIONS. 

by  some  bristling  branching  hairs.  Through  this  mouth  and 
into  the  cavity  of  the  utricle,  quantities  of  microscopic  insects, 
water  fleas,  and  animalcules,  in  some  way  or  other  find  their  way, 
and  are  there  digested  and  absorbed  with  the  exception  of  their 
hard  parts.  What  brings  so  many  of  the  tiny  denizens  of  the 
water  to  crowd  themselves  into  these  uninviting  little  prison 
houses,  is  I  think  still  a  good  deal  of  a  mystery.  The  prey 
caught  is  indiscriminately  animal  and  vegetable  eating  organisms, 
and  even  larvae  and  floating  pollen  grains.  So  that  it  cannot  be 
a  secretion  of  any  kind  which  attracts  so  various  an  assemblage 
of  aquatic  animals  and  things.  The  bristles  around  the  mouth 
are  so  arranged  as  to  form  a  kind  of  open-work  funnel,  conduct- 
ing directly  to  the  valve  which  closes  the  mouth.  The  writers 
on  the  subject,  Darwin  and  others,  seem  to  think  that  chance  and 
curiosity  alone  conduct  the  prey  to  and  into  the  orifice.  I  hardly 
think  that  these  would  account  for  the  presence  of  all  and  so 
many  of  the  things  which,  as  you  will  have  an  opportunity  to 
see  for  yourselves,  are  found  within  the  bladders.  I  think  that 
the  lid  is  sensitive  to  the  touch  or  irritation  of  anything  lying 
upon  it,  and  opens  with  a  quick  motion,  engulfing  whatever  may 
be  near  it.  We  have  plenty  of  instances  of  such  sensitive 
movements  in  other  plants  of  similar  habits. 

But  how  strange  it  is  that  down  in  the  water  there  should  be 
this  little  carnivorous  vegetable,  lying  in  wait  for  its  prey,  and 
like  a  great  shark  ready  to  turn  up  its  mouth  and  swallow  any- 
thing and  everything  that  happens  to  come  along.  Really  our 
ideas  of  the  distinction  between  animals  and  plants  are  quite 
disturbed  by  the  performances  of  these  animal-eating  plants. 

I  have  here  a  preparation  of  a  small  portion  of  the  fruiting 
stalk  of  a  greenhouse  fern,  called  Aneimia  Mexicana.  It  pro- 
duces its  spores  on  a  stalk  which  grows  up  from  the  top  of  a  leaf 
stalk,  and  the  spores  are  like  the  pollen  grains  of  the  mallows 
and  abutilons ;  in  both  which  respects  it  is  quite  unique  and 
remarkable  among  ferns.  It  makes  a  very  beautiful  object  under 
dark  field  illumination,  as  I  will  show  you  later  in  the  evening. 
It  is  a  very  pretty  experiment  to  place  the  spores  of  a  fern  on  a 
piece  of  porous  sandstone,  partly  immersed  in  a  saucer  of  water, 


f 

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THE    MICROSCOPE    AND    ITS    PREPARATIONS.  169 

and  to  watch  their  growth.  You  would  be  surprised,  if  you  did 
not  already  know  the  fact,  to  see  that  the  spores  did  not,  like 
seeds,  produce  ferns  or  anything  like  them.  They  produce  what 
is  called  "  the  nurse "  of  the  future  generation  of  ferns.  It  is 
a  plant  resembling  another  and  a  lower  order  than  the  ferns 
themselves :  a  little  flat  leaf  with  a  tiny  stalk  and  root  imme- 
diately under  the  middle  of  it.  On  this  leaf  when  mature,  little 
projections  arise,  in  a  certain  number  of  which  are  developed 
minute  spiral  sperm-cells  with  vibratile  cilia  at  one  end  of  them, 
which  finally  leave  the  cases  in  which  they  were  produced  and 
wriggle  about  in  a  lively  manner  over  the  surface  of  the  leaf. 
In  the  meanwhile  another  but  much  smaller  number  of  the  pro- 
jections develop  into  stationary  germ  cells ;  and  into  these  germ 
cells  the  active  little  motile  cells  eventually  find  their  way,  thus 
fructifying  the  germ,  which  immediately  commences  to  throw 
down  a  separate  root  and  to  develop  into  the  true  fern.  It  is  a 
case  of  alternate  generation  among  plants  ;  and  it  is  the  same 
kind  of  reproduction  which  is  so  common  among  the  lower 
orders  of  animals,  the  invertebrates,  in  which  one  kind  of  animal 
produces  another  entirely  unlike  itself,  which  in  its  turn  produces 
the  first  kind  again.  Both  the  plants  and  the  animals  which 
undergo  this  strange  kind  of  generation,  lived  and  flourished 
together,  and  possessed  the  earth  all  by  themselves,  in  that  far 
olden  time  when  .the  coal  beds  were  being  made.  And  up  to 
this  time  there  had  not  been  an  "  herb  yielding  seed "  nor  a 
"  tree  yielding  fruit  after  its  kind  "  on  the  earth.  Apparently 
the  sublime  narrative  of  organic  creation  given  in  Genesis,  com- 
mences at  this  point. 

It  has  been  objected  to  the  method  of  preparing  such  speci- 
mens as  I  have  described  to  you — that  is  by  decolorizing  them 
and  then  staining  them  in  various  colors — that  they  are  unnat- 
ural, that  there  are  no  such  things  thus  colored  in  all  the  realm 
of  the  vegetable  kingdom.  This  objection  formed  the  burden 
of  a  very  caustic  article  published  some  months  ago  by  a  distin- 
guished microscopist.  He  was  immediately  replied  to  by  such  a 
number  of  infuriated  preparers  that,  so  far  as  I  know,  the 
distinguished  microscopist  has  never  opened  his  head  since. 


170  THE    MICROSCOPE    AND    ITS    PREPARATIONS. 

The  fact  is,  that  in  order  to  display  at  all  the  internal  structure 
and  modes  of  growth  of  vegetable  tissues,  and  the  delicate 
glands  and  organs  which  make  up  the  vegetable  economy,  it  is 
necessary  to  make  the  specimens  transparent  by  dissolving  out, 
in  some  way,  the  green  chlorophyl.  Alcohol  will  do  this,  but  it 
usually  takes  quite  a  long  time.  The  chlorinated  soda  solution, 
sold  by  druggists  as  a  disinfectant,  will  do  it  much  more  effectu- 
ally, and  in  a  few  hours  time.  After  this  operation,  we  have  an 
object  which  is  certainly  translucent,  but  the  parts  are  of  such 
uniform  brightness  that  they  are  not  readily  distinguishable  one 
from  the  other.  It  is  necessary  again  to  slightly  color  them,  in 
order  to  obstruct  some  portion  of  the  light,  and  to  contrast  one 
organ  or  tissue  with  another.  Here  comes  in  the  art  of  the 
microscopist.  Without  effacing  a  mark  or  destroying  the  faintest 
tracing  in  his  picture  of  nature's  work  he  can  give  it  to  you  in 
oscuro,  in  monochrome,  or  in  varied  and  contrasting  colors.  And 
when  you  see  that  beauty  of  coloring  in  no  wise  detracts  from 
the  naturalness  of  organs  or  tissues,  or  from  the  true  representa- 
tion of  vegetable  growth  and  processes,  I  think  you  will  accord 
to  the  enthusiast  of  this  art,  the  painters'  freest  license. 

My  friends,  I  have  given  you  a  brief  introduction  to  one  of 
the  most  interesting  of  the  sciences — one  which  lies  at  the 
foundation  of  all  the  natural  sciences,  for  the  microscope  is  now 
the  indispensable  instrument  in  all  physical  research — one  which 
opens  up  more  vistas  of  knowledge  and  of  exploration  than  any 
other  branch  of  experimental  physics — and  one  the  merits  of 
which,  I  am  happy  to  say,  are  being  every  day  more  appreciated. 
I  even  cherish  the  hope  to  live  to  see  the  day  when  its  claims  as 
a  distinct  and  worthy  science  shall  penetrate  the  incrusted  hel- 
mets of  the  heads  of  our  learned  universities — when  its  manip- 
ulations, its  processes,  and  its  investigations  shall  be  considered 
equally  important  teachings  with  the  reactions  of  chemical 
agents,  and  the  work  and  handicraft  of  the  laboratory. 


DIVERSITY   OF   RACES.5 


There  is  a  problem  yet  to  be  solved  in  the  history  of  man, 
which  is  now  the  occasion  of  much  uncertainty  and  mystery  in 
its  records.  It  is  the  problem  of  the  origin  of  races — a  question, 
the  solution  of  which  alone  will  account  for  those  strange  diver- 
sities in  organization,  in  civilization,  and  in  character,  which  so 
distinctly  divide  the  families  of  mankind.  It  lies  then  at  the 
very  foundation  of  the  philosophy  of  history.  But  so  involved 
is  it  in  mythical  fable  and  allegory,  so  obscured  by  dark  and 
varying  traditions,  that  he  who,  in  history  and  nature,  would 
search  out  data  for  conclusions,  must  content  himself  with  only 
arriving  at  probabilities,  or  perhaps  merely  indicating  a  course 
for  further  investigations.  And  that  we  are  authorized,  and  even 
called  upon  in  seeking  out  the  origin  of  races,  to  look  beyond  reve- 
lation, will  be  readily  conceded  by  those  who  consider  the  very 
different  construction  from  the  popular  one,  which  science  has 
placed  on  the  Mosaic  account  of  the  world's  beginning.  Nor  are 
we  forbidden  to  reason  on  this  subject  because  we  may  not  as  yet 
be  able  to  establish  the  correctness  of  a  different  and  better  inter- 
pretation. It  required  ages  to  explain  the  allegory  of  inanimate 
creation ;  and  it  will  yet  require  years  of  laborious  research  to 
remove  all  the  mystery  of  man's  origin. 

*  Written  in  1849  for  one  of  the  Senior  prizes  of  Yale  College.  The  writer 
was  called  up  by  President  Woolsey  and  Prof.  Larned,  and  told  that  the 
Faculty  adjudged  the  essay  worthy  of  the  prize  in  a  literary  point  of  view, 
but  could  not  award  it  in  this  case  because  they  did  not  consider  the  article 
orthodox,  and  could  not  do  anything  to  encourage  such  writings.  It  was  at 
once  demanded  by  the  students  and  published  in  the  Yale  Literary  Magazine 
for  April,  1849. 


172  DIVERSITY    OF    RACES. 

To  him  who  looks  out  on  the  world  with  an  inquiring  eye,  it 
would  seem  that  there  could  remain  no  longer  a  doubt  in  regard 
to  diversities  in  the  human  family,  independent  of  climatic  and 
sectional  influences.  For  over  all  the  earth,  wherever  man  is 
found,  he  beholds  the  unvarying  marks  of  species;  but  not  a 
trace  of  any  uniform  effects  from  either  heat  or  cold,  fertility  or 
barrenness.  From  the  bleak  and  inhospitable  regions  of  Terra 
del  Fnego,  through  the  torrid  Pampas  and  forests  of  the  Ama- 
zon, as  far  as  to  the  icy  abode  of  the  Esquimaux,  the  American 
Aborigines  are  physically  the  same.*  The  negroes  of  Van 
Dieman's  Landf  and  Caffraria^:  are  even  darker  in  complexion 
than  the  Abyssins,§  the  GallasJ  and  numerous  tribes  of  Ethiopia, 
which  roam  beneath  the  scorching  sun  of  the  Line.  The  white 
man  possesses  the  same  organization  on  the  cheerless  mountains 
of  Caucasus  as  in  the  loveliest  valleys  of  the  Rhine.  And  the  black 
man  is  the  same,  whether  on  the  arid  wastes  of  his  native  Nig- 
ritia,  or  the  exuberant  fields  of  the  American  States.  Local 
influence  may  affect  its  subject  for  a  season  or  a  life ;  but  it  has 
never  wrought  an  hereditary  change.  The  same  sun  in  his  round 
of  ages  could  never  have  bleached  the  European  and  blackened 
the  African,  or  tinged  the  Asiatic  with  yellow  and  the  Indian 
with  red.  Uniformity  without  variableness  is  the  offspring  of 
nature;  and  when  we  find  this  following  not  in  the  train  of  ex- 
traneous causes,  we  must  turn  to  race  itself  as  the  key  to  the 
mystery. 

Behold  then  the  world  divided  not  less  into  continents  than  it 
is  by  families  of  men.  Australia,  and  South  Africa  whither  the 
roving  Arab  has  not  fought  his  way,  present  a  species  of  the 
most  distinct  character,  stamped  as  it  is  with  the  impress  of  its 
own  degradation.  The  Aborigines  of  the  New  World  bear  every 
mark  of  a  peculiar  people.  As  the  beings  of  a  day,  in  their 
slender  proportions  and  delicate  hue,  they  exhibit  the  signs  of 
their  own  evanescence.  Asia  teems  with  its  countless  myriads, 


*Malte  Brun's  "  Univ.  Geog."  Boston  Ed.  of  8  vols.,  vol.  5,  p.  15. 
fMalteBrun,  vol.  1,  p.  547. 

tPrichard's  "  Phys.  Hist,  of  Mankind,"  3d  Ed.,  Lond.,  vol.  2,  p.  289. 
gPrickard,  vol.  2,  p.  136.  ||  Priclmrd,  vol.  2,  p.  15G. 


DIVERSITY    OF    RACES. 


and,  though  varying  somewhat  among  themselves,  yet  all  together 
bearing  a  sufficient  resemblance  to  distinguish  them  from  every 
race  besides.  Europe  too  appears  proudly  exhibiting  its  charac- 
teristic species.  And  what  is  yet  more  striking,  under  similar 
circumstances  and  the  same  climate  in  which  is  found  every 
variety  of  mankind,  this  continent  alone  affords  the  spectacle  of 
an  aboriginal  white  man. 

Such  are  the  physical  diversities  of  races.  But  there  is  a  still 
more  marked  distinction  appearing  in  their  psychical  characters ; 
between  which  and  the  former,  there  is  an  obvious  but  strange 
connection.  One  race  seems  as  it  were  set  aside  by  the  hand  of 
Providence  for  a  doom  of  the  most  dismal  degradation.  Another 
appears  sadly  fated  to  grope  ever  in  mere  conceptions  of  wild 
sports  here  and  hunting  grounds  hereafter.  A  third,  amid  all 
the  elements  of  progress,  is  bound  down  under  an  immutable 
conservatism.  While  yet  another  seems  equally  destined,  and 
rapidly  speeding  on,  to  the  highest  perfection  of  humanity. 
Those  lands  of  the  Negro  to  which  the  dim  light  of  Islam  or 
the  rays  of  foreign  culture  have  never  penetrated,  present  the 
gloomiest  picture  of  man.  It  is  there  that  he  has  arisen  in  no 
sense  above  an  instinctive  existence.  Without  a  letter  or  symbol 
of  language,  barren  and  blank  in  intellect,  aroused  from  habitual 
stupor  only  by  the  clang  of  horrid  dissonance,  like  the  brute  he. 
lives,  and  seems  like  the  brute  to  pass  away.  The  American 
Indians  are  a  people  of  unique  character,  having  many  noble 
traits,  but  wholly  incapable  of  permanent  civilization  or  improve- 
ment. They  seem  to  have  been  created  merely  to  be  the  tenants 
of  an  unoccupied  territory,  till  in  the  fullness  of  time  it  should 
become  the  home  of  a  mightier  race.  That  time  has  come,  and 
now  before  the  white  man  they  vanish  like  a  breath  of  air,  and 
soon  will  be  numbered  only  by  their  bleaching  bones  on  our 
plains.  Wide  over  the  continent  of  the  orient  dwells  another 
race,  midway  in  the  ascent  of  civilization.  It  is  here  that  man, 
with  every  incentive  of  a  bountiful  nature  and  of  rich  discover- 
ies, as  it  were  with  the  thread  of  his  own  destiny  in  his  hands, 
has  plodded  on  for  untold  ages  in  the  same  profitless  round. 
Nations  here  have  sprung  up  in  a  day,  have  swept  like  the  storm- 


174  DIVERSITY    OF    RACES. 

king  over  all  the  East,  and  again  as  speedily  have  disappeared. 
Here  unceasingly,  since  the  earth  has  been  tenanted  by  man,  has 
been  witnessed  the  spectacle  of  myriads  jostling  against  myriads, 
of  empires  clashing  with  empires ;  yet  Asia  is  Asia  still,  a  vast 
sea  of  humanity  that  stagnates  over  half  the  world.  From  these 
sad  contemplations  we  turn  to  Europe,  the  birth-place  of  pro- 
gress, the  home  of  refinement.  Select  from  the  chart  of  earth 
that  spot,  the  blackest  with  mountains,  the  most  jagged  with 
stormy  seas,  and  every  way  the  most  unpromising  of  any  the 
sun  beholds,  and  you  have  marked  the  land  of  civilization's 
nativity.  In  this  bleak  corner  sprung  up  those  fair  favorites  of 
nature  who  have  ever  gloried  in  advancement  as  the  state  alone 
congenial  to  them,  and  who  are  nobly  bearing  onward  all  that  is 
enlightened  in  humanity. 

Who  now  will  say,  what,  other  than  native  character,  produced 
these  astonishing  differences?  What,  but  the  impress  of  the 
Creator's  hand  at  their  origin,  made  the  white  man  civilized,  the 
dark  man  half  civilized,  the  red  man  savage,  and  the  black  man 
brutish  ?  It  is  no  answer  to  say  that  education  or  state  of  society 
might  gradually  have  wrought  the  diversity;  for  the  question 
again  reverts  back  upon  those  very  influences ;  and  we  ask,  what 
occasioned  their  existence,  or  what  brought  them  to  affect  separ- 
ately each  species  as  a  whole,  distinguishing  it  from  every  other  ? 

Again,  who  will  show  the  external  causes  which  have  made 
the  European,  from  the  very  infancy  of  his  being,  the  lord  and 
arbiter  of  earth?  Behold  the  monuments  of  the  Macedonian, 
reared  on  the  Indus  and  on  the  Nile.  Behold  Asia  and  Africa 
cowering  before  the  resistless  Csesars.  The  hosts  of  Persia  cross 
into  Europe  for  conquest,  but  scatter  in  fright  and  dismay  when 
the  bold  Greek  comes  out  to  battle.  The  Saracens  make  the 
sweeping  circuit  of  the  "  midland  sea,"  and  plant  the  crescent  of 
Islam  in  the  heart  of  Europe ;  but  speedily  again  recoil  before 
the  chivalrous  Franks.  The  Spaniards'  rude  cannon  is  heard  on 
the  plains  of  the  Aztecs,  and  forthwith  the  conquest  of  the 
"  White  Gods"  is  extended  wide  as  their  terrible  fame.  While 
the  dark  races  have  ever  bowed  a  willing  neck  to  the  most  abject 
'despotisms,  and  while  every  revolution  throughout  the  East  has 


DIVERSITY    OF    EACES.  175 

but  reproduced  this  same  sad  feature  of  enslavement,  tlie  Euro- 
pean has  unceasingly  fostered  the  principles  of  freedom,  and 
every  governmental  change,  from  the  earliest  times  to  the 
present,  has  served  but  to  make  more  republican  his  civil  insti- 
tutions. This  same  democratic  element  we  find  in  the  municipal 
structures  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  republics,  as  also  in  the  laws 
of  the  ancient  Briton  and  German  ;  and  beyond  this  race  the 
world  presents  no  other  such  spectacle.  Men  in  early  stages  of 
society  have  wrought  out  for  themselves  two  distinct  forms  of 
natural  religion;  and  these,  if  any  thing  can,  must  indicate 
original  character.  We  find  then  the  most  prevalent  to  be  a 
symbolical  idolatry,  a  gross  materialism,  which  formed  the  cum- 
brous machinery  of  the  worship  of  the  brutes,  of  "  stocks  and 
stones,"  or  of  the  celestial  orbs.  Such  are  Fetich  ism,  Shamanism, 
Boodhisrn,  and  the  varied  forms  of  Pantheism  and  Sabeism. 
The  other  is  a  personified  mythology,  a  beautiful  idealism  ;  in 
which  alone  is  recognized  the  existence  of  an  extra-mundane 
God.  This  religion,  whether  figured  under  its  Saturn  or  Zeus, 
its  Odin  or  Veli-bog,  is  the  only  and  peculiar  creation  of  the 
white  man.*  Over  all  the  East,  the  South,  and  the  West,  polyg- 
amy and  sensuality  have  reigned  with  unbridled  license.  How 
different,  how  chaste  and  pure  comparatively,  has  been  society  in 
Europe  from  the  very  infancy  of  its  nations !  Here  too,  on  the 
soil  of  this  small  continent,  mind  has  cast  off  its  shackles  and 
widened  its  realm,  till  now  the  very  elements  of  nature  and  the 
attributes  of  force  are  subservient  to  its  uses  and  pleasure.  By 
the  beautiful  art  of  stamping  thought,  the  dead  live  on  in  all 
their  former  greatness.  By  simply  poising  the  magnet,  the 
trackless  ocean  at  once  lost  its  terrors,  and  New  Worlds  loomed 
up  beyond  it.  The  lawless  vapor  of  the  sky  is  bolted  in,  and 
made  to  bear  man's  burdens.  The  sun  stoops  to  paint  his  image, 
and  the  lightning  does  his  errands.  The  recesses  of  thought, 
too,  open  to  the  light  of  day  their  own  dark  caverns,  and  mind 
explores  the  mystery  of  mind.  But  beyond  his  native  home, 
wherever  the  white  man  has  appeared  to  assert  his  supremacy  of 

intellect, .  the  spectacle  is  still  the  same.     Long  ages  back  he  mys- 

»  . 

*  Prichard,  vol.  3,  p.  12. 


176  DIVERSITY    OF    RACES. 

teriously  came  to  the  wilds  of  this  Western  Continent,  and 
started  into  magic  being  a  beautiful  but  frail  civilization ;  and 
long  did  the  red  man  worship  his  "  white  and  bearded  god."  * 
The  fair  sons  of  Circassia  have  formed  for  centuries  the  ruling 
castes  of  Egypt  and  either  Turkey  ;f  and  many  a  once  humble 
merchant  on  the  Thames  or  Zuider  Zee,  is  now  basking  in 
oriental  state. 

Such  is  European  superiority.  And  we  say  again,  let  him  who 
can  assign  it  an  impersonal  cause.  It  is  vain  to  point  to  any 
tendencies  in  the  natural  world  ;  for  these  cannot  produce  genius ; 
nor  often  have  they  favored  its  development.  Equally  vain  is  it 
to  refer  the  cause  to  a  concurrence  of  circumstances ;  the  chances 
against  which,  even  if  any  could  be  conjectured  sufficient  to  the 
effect,  would  be  beyond  computation.  Again  must  we  revert  to 
native  character.  And,  as  we  behold  a  Newton  born  to  great- 
ness, so  must  we  regard  this  race  as  created  to  its  supremacy. 
At  intervals  down  through  the  generations  of  men,  the  Creator 
has  seen  fit  to  send  forth  some  giant  mind,  whose  capacities 
should  astonish,  or  whose  might  awe,  the  wondering  pigmies 
beneath  it.  So  likewise,  to  vary  the  monotony  of  ages,  has  He 
ushered  into  being  a  powerful  race,  a  master-piece  of  His  mys- 
terious workmanship,  whose  Titan  arms  should  wield  the 
destinies  of  a  benighted  world.  Why  He  has  wrought  in  His 
Creation  so  incomprehensibly,  it  may  not  be  for  us  to  inquire. 
The  Lord  God  made  it  so,  and  it  is  good. 

It  is  an  opinion  quite  common  in  regard  to  the  origin  of  races, 
that  it  is  referable  to  a  period  immediately  following  the  Deluge, 
and  to  those  descendants  of  Noah  who  received  divine  blessings 
or  curses.  This  however  is  founded,  we  think,  on  no  direct 
authority  of  Holy  Writ,  which,  in  that  connection,  specifies  only 
what  may  be  explained  more  plausibly  by  events  comparatively 
local  and  immediate.  Thus,  the  malediction  on  the  son  of  Ham 
was  fulfilled  in  the  subjection  and  enslavement  of  the  Canaanites 
to  Israel ;  and  the  blessing  of  Shern,  in  the  prosperity  of  the 
Israelites.  Surely  the  assertions  that  "  Japheth  shall  be  enlarged, 


*Prescott,  "Conq.  of  Mex."  vol.  1,  p.  60;  .Bradford,  "Am.  Antiq."  p.  301. 
fBlackwood  Mag.  for  1849,  vol.  28,  p.  134. 


DIVERSITY    OF    RACES.  177 

and  shall  dwell  in  the  tents  of  Shem,  and  Canaan  shall  be  his 
servant,"  are  very  far  from  having  received  their  verification  in 
any  past  or  existing  order  of  things,  if  these  patriarchs  were  the 
authors  of  races.  Again,  that  the  scriptural  account  of  the 
Deluge  does  not  necessarily  imply  its  literal  universality,  we 
have  very  clear  evidence,  as  well  as  high  authority.*  And  that 
it  was  not  in  fact  universal,  is  now  generally  maintained  by 
scientific  men  and  conceded  by  most  divines.  For,  to  the  geolo- 
gist, the  physical  appearance  of  the  earth  presents  no  indications 
of  a  flood  prevailing  over  all  lands  at  one  and  the  same  time; 
but  on  the  contrary  every  presumption  against  it.  The  natural 
historian  affirms  that  the  dissemination  of  animals  from  one 
common  center  is  not  only  impossible,  but  contradicted  by  innu- 
merable facts.  The  theologian  perceives  the  necessity  of  such 
an  unparalleled  combination  of  miracles,  in  the  collection,  storage, 
and  sustenance  for  nearly  a  year,  of  over  a  hundred  thousand 
zoological  species,  in  an  Ark  of  but  an  acre's  area,  that  he  also  is 
compelled  to  assign  a  comparatively  limited  extent  to  the 
Noacliian  Deluge. f  Nor  can  this  tendency  of  modern  science 
to  modify  and  explain,  by  the  intervention  of  natural  causes, 
the  phenomena  of  Bible  history,  with  the  exception  of  avowed 
miracles,  be  regarded  as  in  the  least  heretical.  So  far  from  it,  it 
must  give  us  the  noblest  conceptions  of  a  Deity,  to  reflect  that 
the  wondrous  machinery  of  the  universe,  moved  and  regulated 
solely  by  a  few  grand  laws,  works  out,  of  itself,  His  own  eternal 
purposes.  There  is  then  no  necessity,  arising  either  from  the 
Mosaic  records,  or  the  universality  of  the  Flood,  for  accounting 
Noah  as  the  second  progenitor  of  all  the  human  family. 

In  the  days  of  Abram,  the  tenth  in  descent  from  the  patriarch 
of  the  Deluge,  Egypt  was  a  populous  country,  the  seat  of  a 
flourishing  empire.  On  the  other  side,  Assyria  "of  the  Chaldees" 
was  on  its  march  of  refinement  and  magnificence ;  and  on  every 
hand  we  read  of  "  kings  of  nations,"  and  "  captains  of  hosts," 
coming  out  to  battle  on  those  ancient  plains.  Before  the  time  of 
Moses,  in  the  tomb  of  Osiris  far  up  the  Nile,  the  Egyptian  was 

*.Tohn  P.  Smith's  "Relation  of  Scrip,  and  Geol.,"  London,  1830,  p.  304. 
f  John  Pye  Smith,  p.  159. 


178  DIVERSITY    OF    RACES. 

painted  with  all  the  peculiarities  of  the  Copt  at  the  present  day, 
and  with  him  were  represented  the  white  and  blue-eyed  stranger 
from  the  North,  and  the  sable  sons  of  the  South.*  Long  back  in 
time,  in  the  cave  of  Elephanta,  of  which  not  even  the  ancient 
books  or  traditions  of  the  Brahmins  have  preserved  an  account, 
were  placed  the  sculptured  images  of  the  Indian,  the  perfect 
statues  of  the  modern  Hindoo,  and  of  the  crisp-haired  African. f 
Thus  to  the  earliest  date  of  history  must  we  refer  the  existence 
of  permanent  nations,  as  also  the  existence  in  them  and  around 
them  of  permanent  races.  Arid  no  one  will  gravely  say,  that 
either  through  or  from  Egypt  there  went  out  a  tribe  which  was 
so  soon  found  to  be  the  ill-formed  Negro,  from  India  another 
branch  which  immediately  stood  forth  as  the  fair  Caucasian,  and 
from  China  another  which  appeared  as  the  red  race,  while  the 
original  families  remained  of  the  same  dark  hue  and  peculiar 
organization. 

If  now  we  turn  to  the  researches  which  have  been  made  in 
relation  to  the  antiquity  of  the  old  Empires  of  Asia,  we  will  find 
that  all  antiquarians,  without  giving  the  least  credence  to  the 
pretensions  of  those  nations  to  a  prodigious  age,  but  judging 
from  their  literature  connected  with  accidental  astronomical 
observations,  have  dated  back  their  origin  to  a  period  coeval 
with,  and  in  most  cases  long  anterior  to  the  scriptural  era  of  the 
Deluge.  They  are  united,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  find,  in 
fixing  the  dawn  of  reliable  history,  in  Egypt,;):  in  either  India,§ 
and  in  China, |  between  the  first  century  after  and  the  fifth 
before  that  epoch.  And  beyond  these  comparatively  authentic 
periods,  traditions  and  dark  mythologies  tell  us  of  wonderful 
demi-gods,  of  dynasties  of  the  sun  and  moon,  of  silver  and 
golden  ages,  reaching  back  in  time  to  the  day  when  the  fiat  of 
the  Omnipotent  spoke  man  into  being.  When  now  we  consider 
that  in  those  remote  ages,  many  centuries  must  have  been 

*Creppo's  "Researches  of  Champollion,"  p.  264. 
f  Asiatic  Researches,  vol.  4,  p.  431  and  433. 
JPrichard,  vol.  2,  p.  199.     Creppo's  Cham.,  p.  82 

gPrichard,  vol.  4,  p.  105  and  106;  also  p.  107,  note,  and  vol.  2,  p.  195  and 
196.     Heeren  "On  Anc.  Nat.  of  Asia,"  vol.  3,  p.  291  and  304. 
||  Prichard,  vol.  4,  p.  474-477. 


DIVERSITY    OF    RACES.  179 

requisite  for  nations  to  have  wandered  so  far  from  each  other, 
over  vast  tracts  of  country  equally  inviting  with  those  they 
eventually  chose,  and  with  no  necessity  whatever  impelling  them 
on,  and  that  many  more  must  have  been  required  for  them  to 
have  established  in  those  seats,  two  thousand  leagues  apart, 
splendid  and  well  adjusted  monarchies,  and  to  have  attained  no 
inconsiderable  advance  in  science  and  literature,  it  verily  seems 
counter  to  all  probabilities,  if  not  possibilities,  to  ascribe  their 
origin  to  that  lone  Ark  which  rested  but  forty-two  centuries 
ago  on  the  summit  of  Mount  Ararat. 

Thus  have  we  traced  the  characteristics  of  races  back  through 
all  historic  time,  and  in  all  probability  beyond  the  age  when 
righteous  Noah  was  selected  to  be  the  head  of  a  favored  line. 
It  remains  for  us  to  consider  if  even  further  we  may  not  peer 
into  the  dark  night  of  antediluvian  ages. 

All  history,  sacred  and  profane,  as  well  as  tradition  running  far 
back  of  this,  establishes  the  fact  that  from  time  immemorial 
there  has  reigned  from  the  Nile  to  the  Hoang  Ho,  over  one-fourth 
of  the  earth's  circumference,  the  same  peculiar  culture,  stamped 
with  such  a  striking  unity  as  to  be  remarked  by  every  antiquary 
from  Herodotus  to  the  present  time.  Throughout  the  realms  of 
China,  India,  Assyria,  and  Egypt,  they  have  found,  ever  prevail- 
ing, the  same  dogmas  in  philosophy  and  religion,  the  same 
institutions  and  superstitions,  the  same  knowledge  in  the  sciences 
and  advance  in  the  arts.*  Not  only  were  years  and  cycles 
similarly  apportioned  in  many  of  those  nations,  but  even  weeks 
were  divided  alike,  and  days  named  after  the  planets  ranged  in 
precisely  the  same  arbitrary  order,  f  Such  coincidences  have 
compelled  all  to  assign  to  ancient  civilization  a  common  origin. 
Is  then  this  origin  indigenous  or  foreign? 

That  there  has  been  no  intercourse  between  these  nations  since 
the  earliest  records  of  history,  we  have  abundant  evidence.  And 
that  there  was  none  previously  is  shown  by  the  fact,  that  while 
the  languages  in  common  use  in  the  Old  Empires  had  no  simi- 
larity whatever  and  the  literature  in  those  languages  was  wholly 

*  Prichard,  vol.  2,  p.  103. 

f  Ty tier's  Univ.  Hist.,  Harper's  Fam.  Lib.  ed.,  vol.  5,  p.  67. 


180  DIVERSITY    OF    RACES. 

distinct,  the  elements  of  their  civilization  were  almost  identical.* 
Yet  however,  many  of  their  sacred  books,  as  the  Yedas  of  the 
Brahmins  and  the  Zenda vesta  of  the  Magi,  were  written  in 
foreign  and  similar  tongues,  but  understood  only  by  the  priests. 

Again  this  ancient  civilization  itself  bears  the  marks  of  a  for- 
eign origin.  It  is  such  a  strange  composition  of  refinement  and 
barbarism,  of  exalted  ideas  mingled  with  the  lowest  conceptions 
of  sense,  such  a  peculiar  combination  of  the  most  refined  truths 
of  religion  and  philosophy,  with  a  mass  of  childish  superstitions 
and  ridiculous  notions,  as  to  be  accounted  for  on  no  other  suppo- 
sition. The  Chinese  have  at  the  present  day  implements  of 
science  of  the  use  and  application  of  which  they  are  totally 
ignorant.  They  have  been  acquainted  with  the  art  of  printing 
for  thousands  of  years  ;  yet  even  now  it  is  but  a  laborious  system 
of  wood-engraving.  For  ages  they  have  used  the  magnetic 
needle  but  to  gaze  at  in  toys,  and  have  compounded  gunpowder 
but  to  blaze  in  fire-works.  The  Indians  have  had  many  beautiful 
specimens  of  sculpture,  but  valued  them  only  for  filling  the 
dark  and  loathsome  caves  connected  with  their  superstitions. 
The  Chaldees  were  conversant  with  many  sublime  truths  in  As- 
tronomy, which  they  brought  into  use  only  in  reading  destinies 
in  the  horoscope.  The  Egyptians  applied  a  superior  knowledge 
in  architecture  only  to  rear  huge  pyramids  and  obelisks  to  cumber 
the  earth.  In  short,  over  all  this  vast  region,  from  the  Pacific 
to  the  Great  Desert,  we  find  the  vestiges  of  a  progress  far 
beyond  the  genius  of  the  people,  the  elements  of  a  civilization 
which,  from  their  present  inferiority,  from  the  history  of  the 
past,  and  more  than  all  from  that  eternal  immobility  which  has 
stamped  its  identity  on  the  annals  of  four  thousand  years,  we 
must  infer,  they  never  were  capable  by  themselves  of  acquiring. 
It  seems  as  if  in  remote  ages  the  fragments  of  some  noble  and 
perfect  machinery  had  been  carelessly  scattered  over  Southern 
Asia,  which  a  wondering  race  had  preserved  as  toys  or  as  relics. 

The  existence  of  permanent  hereditary  castes  in  all  the  Empires 
of  the  East,  from  the  first  faint  glimmerings  of  their  history, 

*Pricbard.  vol.  4,  p.  480  and  556.  Creppo's  Cham.,  p.  207.  Multe  Brun, 
vol.  1,  p.  567. 


DIVERSITY    OF    RACES.  181 

would  seem  to  indicate  a  peculiar  foreign  agency ;  since  every 
such  institution  in  modern  nations,  of  which  an  origin  has  been 
recorded,  is  known  to  have  sprung  from  the  advent  of  foreigners, 
superior  either  in  authority  or  in  native  powers.  That  such  was 
the  case  in  at  least  one  of  the  ancient  nations,  we  have  the 
clearest  evidence  in  the  distinctive  character  of  the  sacred  caste 
of  the  Hindoos,  which  is  acknowledged  to  be  of  foreign  ex- 
traction.* 

But  further,  all  the  traditions  of  the  East  refer  the  origin  of 
its  literary  and  religious  castes  to  the  distant  North.  Thither  the 
Magi  and  the  Zendish  priests  of  Western  Asia  point  as  to  the 
home  of  their  heroes  and  their  gods.f  From  thence,  in  remote 
antiquity,  came  down  the  Brahmins  of  India,  diffusing  through- 
out the  South  a  foreign  culture.^  The  Chaldeans  are  said  to 
have  been  strangers  in  Assyria,  whose  native  land  was  far  among 
the  Highlands  of  Upper  Asia.§  The  priests  of  Lao-tseu,  from 
whose  system  the  great  Confucius  drew  the  elements  of  his 
practical  philosophy,  trace  back  the  wanderings  of  their  sect  to 
the  same  regions  of  the  North.]  That  the  same  early  teachers 
found  their  way  to  the  Nile  as  to  the  Ganges,  is  shown  from  the 
fact  that,  of  all  nations,  no  two  have  ever  had  more  dissimilar 
languages,  or  a  more  identical  cultivation,  than  Egypt  and  India.^f 
Hence  we  conclude  that  the  ancient  civilization  of  the  East  was 
there  introduced  by  foreigners,  who  were  so  few  as  to  be  unable 
to  change  the  native  tongues  of  the  lands  they  civilized,  as  also 
that  it  emanated  all  from  those  same  lofty  table-lands  of  the  bold 
Tartar,  from  which  Asia  has  recruited  its  dynasties  from  time 
immemorial. 

To  this  tendency  of  tradition  to  assign  to  oriental  advance- 
ment, dating  back  with  much  certainty  to  diluvian  ages,  a  still 
more  ancient  original  in  the  regions  towrard  the  Arctic,  the 
accounts  of  travelers  who  have  penetrated  thither  add  much  cor- 
roborative evidence.  They  tell  us  that  over  the  vast  snow-fields 
of  Siberia  and  the  bleak  uplands  of  Tartary,  where  now  roam  a 

*Heeren's  Asia,  vol.  3,  p.  279  and  280.  §Ib.,  vol.  4,  p.  563. 

fPrichard,  vol.  4.  p.  12  and  49.  ||  Ib.,  vol.  4,  p.  485. 

j  Ib.,  vol.  4,  p.  244.  lib.,  vol.  2,  p.  217. 


182  DIVERSITY    OF    RACES. 

few  scattered  savages  gleaning  their  bare  sustenance  from  a 
sterile  nature,  are  to  be  found  the  vestiges  of  an  ancient  people 
which  once  was  numerous,  refined,  arid  powerful.  Here  have 
been  discovered  in  countless  numbers  ancient  mines,  quarries, 
and  tumuli,  of  which  the  barbarous  tribes  which  now  behold 
them  with  a  careless  look  or  a  vacant  stare,  have  preserved  not 
the  slightest  account  or  tradition.*  In  the  Ural  and  Altai  Moun- 
tains, are  mines  so  long  since  abandoned  that  nature  has  even 
already  progressed  far  in  the  tedious  process  of  filling  them 
again  with  the  original  materials.  Quarries  also  are  found, 
deeply  excavated,  and  in  them  the  implements  of  the  workmen  ; 
but  the  constructions,  for  which  these  doubtless  afforded  mate- 
rials, exposed  to  the  elements,  have,  with  but  few  exceptions, 
crumbled  to  dust.  Of  the  mounds  which  are  scattered  up  and 
down  on  the  banks  of  the  Irtish  and  Yenisei,  many  contain 
ornaments  of  gold  and  copper,  beautifully  embossed  and  of 
exquisite  workmanship ;  but  others  present  only  the  rude  relics 
of  a  people  who  had  lived  out  their  day  before  art  was  known 
or  mines  were  wrought.  Would  we  now  follow  up  the  stream 
of  time  to  the  era  when  this  polished  people,  from  unknown 
causes,  deserted  their  primeval  seats,  and  still  on  to  the  far  more 
remote  period  of  their  origin  ?  We  pass  from  age  back  to  age, 
from  the  fall  to  the  rise  of  mighty  empires  and  religions ;  we 
trace  back  the  tribes  chosen  of  God,  to  the  patriarchal  family  of 
the  Deluge,  and  yet  we  have  not  probably  arrived  even  to  the 
decline  of  this  ancient  race.  But  a  nation  springs  not,  Minerva- 
like,  into  refinement  in  a  day.  And  we  have  yet  to  allow  for  the 
slow  progress  of  man  into  the  arts  and  inventions  of  compara- 
tively civilized  life.  Who  then,  on  that  scroll  of  time  which 
counts  its  cycles  of  ages  back  to  those  when  the  giant  creatures 
of  a  tropical  clime  roamed  over  exuberant  plains  where  are  now 
the  wastes  of  Siberia,  will  venture  to  mark  any  but  a  darkly  dis- 
tant period  for  the  origin  of  this  long  since  extinct  nation. 

Again,  in  Europe,  we  find  the  same  peculiar  phenomena,  its 
traditions  and   early   history   pointing   ever   northward;    while 

*Prichard,  vol.  4,  p.  281;  also  vol.  5,  p.  xvii.      Malte  Brun,  vol.  2,  p.  394. 
Tytler's  Hist.  vol.  5,  p.  73. 


DIVERSITY    OF    RACES.  183 

there,  profusely  spread,  are  found  the  vestiges  of  ancient  and 
unknown  races.*  Those  strange  mounds,  called  "giant's  tombs," 
which  have  long  been  the  wonder  of  the  Northmen,  have  opened 
up  for  antiquaries  a  field  of  most  interesting  research.  By  the 
differences,  not  only  in  their  structure,  but  in  the  relics  they 
contain,  there  has  been  made  a  chronological  division  of  them 
into  three  distinct  classes.  In  the  most  recent  are  found  various 
implements  of  iron,  which  metal  is  known  to  have  been  in  use 
among  the  tribes  of  the  North  long  before  the  Christian  era. 
Other  tumuli,  different  from  these,  present  only  relics  of  gold, 
bronze,  and  copper,  which,  before  the  age  of  iron,  were  long  the 
materials  on  which  was  exercised  the  ingenuity  of  a  polished 
race.  But  in  a  third  series  of  barrows,  by  far  the  most  numer- 
ous, appear  only  ornaments  of  amber  and  weapons  of  stone. 
Not  a  trace  is  here  found  of  any  remains  that  would  indicate  the 
knowledge  of  metals  among  the  tribes  which  deposited  them. 
Both  the  numerousness  of  the  rude  relics  of  this  class,  and  the 
wide  extent  over  which  they  are  spread,  bear  evidence  that  the 
people  who  wrought  them  were  for  long  ages  the  sole  inhabitants 
of  Northern  and  Western  Europe.  What  then  must  be  the  ex- 
treme antiquity  of  the  original  race  which  there  began  to  work 
its  slow  and  toilsome  way  into  the  advanced  state  which  it 
occupied  even  at  a  very  distant  epoch  from  the  earliest  date  of 
its  history  or  traditions  ? 

Thus  have  we  attempted  to  thread  a  few  of  the  windings  in 
the  labyrinth  of  the  past,  and  have  shown,  we  think,  that  from 
such  researches  may  be  deduced  the  strongest  probabilities  in 
favor  of  several  distinct  centers  of  distribution,  and  consequently 
of  the  original  diversity  of  races  in  the  human  family.  Nor  can 
such  a  supposition  be  justly  construed  as  at  variance  with  revela- 
tion. That  the  history  of  creation  in  Genesis,  so  beautifully  and 
appropriately  written  thus  for  the  imaginative  Jews,  is  allegori- 
cal, science  is  daily  proving  more  and  more  conclusively,  and  the 
learned  are  now  agreed  in  the  belief  that  the  true  beginning  of 
things  is  but  darkly  figured  forth  in  the  work  of  those  six  days. 
Then  why  select  from  the  very  midst  of  an  otherwise  continuous 

*  Pricliard,  vol.  3,  p.  294,  also  p.  xvii — xxii. 


184  DIVERSITY    OF    RACES. 

allegory,  a  part  only  on  which  to  impose  a  rigidly  literal  con- 
struction. And  Moses  himself,  so  far  from  recording  anything 
inconsistent  with  the  supposition  that  there  were  coternporaries 
with  Adam,  has  related  many  circumstances  which  can  be  ex- 
plained on  no  other  whatever.  The  fear  of  Cain,  as  he  went  out 
from  his  father's  home,  lest  those  who  found  him  might  slay 
him  ;  his  marrying  and  founding  a  city  in  the  land  of  Nod,  while 
yet  he  was  -the  only  child  of  the  primeval  pair ;  the  circumstance 
of  "giants  in  the  Earth  in  those  days,"  ere  it  was  possible  for  the 
human  organization  thus  to  have  changed ;  the  marriage  of  the 
"  sons  of  God "  with  the  "  daughters  of  men,"  which  made  the 
renovation  of  the  chosen  people  necessary;  all  imply  the  exist- 
ence of  races  coeval  with  the  Adamic  creation. 

This  hypothesis  moreover  explains  much  that  has  been  myster- 
ious both  in  nature  and  in  history.  It  alone  accounts  for  those 
distinguishing  marks  in  organism  which  so  plainly  divide  the 
world  of  man;  and  also  for  those  distinct  traits  of  character 
which  are  deeply  impressed  on  each  several  kind.  It  tells  how 
the  American  Indian,  sequestered  from  all  the  world  besides, 
became  the  only  and  ancient  tenant  of  this  Western  Continent, 
and  how  the  European,  environed  by  thronging  myriads  of  a 
constitution  and  capacity  totally  different,  grew  up  alone  and 
distinct  to  his  high  preeminence.  It  explains  why  the  Negro  in 
his  benighted  home  has  ever  contested  sway  with  the  wild  roam- 
ers  of  the  forest,  and  never  yet  has  asserted  his  right  of  "  domin- 
ion over  the  brute,"  and  why  the  dark  race  of  the  Orient  has 
groveled  on  in  its  childhood  of  ages,  as  if  man  had  no  goal  of 
destiny  in  his  career  through  time.  It  adds  the  lacking  links  to 
that  chain  of  gradation  which  is  at  once  the  beauty  and  wonder 
of  terrestrial  creation.  And  it  perfects  the  range  of  that  beau- 
tiful economy  of  living  existences,  that  whatever  variations 
nature  calls  for,  the  Creator  provides. 

But  beyond  the  analogies  drawm  from  inferior  orders  of  beings, 
there  is  another  and  a  higher  analogy,  which  seems  to  force  upon 
us  this  theory.  No  one  doubts  that  the  providences  as  well  as 
the  revelation  of  the  Omnipotent,  proclaim  man  to  be  an  origin- 
ally distinct  and  superior  order  of  animal  creation.  No  one  now 


New  Zealand  Chief. 


Fiji  Warrior. 

P^Jj^FlPI    "'     PI^^T^'" 
^i       -*_. 


Solomon  Islander. 


High  Chief,  N.  Z. 


Chieftainess,  N.  Z. 


New  Zealand  Girl. 


HH^ 

< ; iii«!r  Kate,  N.  Z.  New  Zealand  Wife.  Guide  Sophie,  N.  Z. 

Plate  XII.— PORTRAITS  OF  SOUTH  SEA  ISLANDERS.     See  Page  xviii. 


DIVERSITY    OF    RACES.  185 

supposes  that  he  to  whom  all  nature  is  made  subservient,  whose 
manor  is  the  Earth,  whose  realm  of  thought  the  Universe,  is  but 
a  favored  chimpanzee,  and  undistinguished  from  it  by  the  cre- 
ative hand  of  the  Deity.  But  there  is  a  particular  race  of  men 
in  which  have  always  centered  His  most  marked  providences. 
Yet  we  are  told  that  this  is  but  a  chance  variation  from  the  rest ; 
as  if,  while  in  one  case  providental  agency  was  applied  in  aid  of 
creative  power,  in  another  and  for  the  attainment  of  the  same 
grand  result,  He  could  combine  it  only  with  accident.  On  the 
bounds  of  Europe  were  erected  those  mighty  barriers  of  mount- 
ains and  seas  which  have  ever  kept  within  their  own  allotted 
homes  the  hordes  of  Tartary  and  the  nomads  of  the  South,  while 
that  favored  land  rested  in  quiet  until  the  dawn  of  its  glorious 
day.  During  more  than  twenty  centuries  Jehovah  instructed 
and  watched  over  His  chosen  tribes.  But  when,  by  His  agency, 
the  civilization  of  the  East  had  been  borne  to  the  classic  shores 
of  Europe,  and  all  things  were  adapted  according  to  His  eternal 
purpose,  He  compelled  even  reluctant  Israel  to  deliver  over  to 
the  favored  race  the  trust  of  His  sacred  religion.  And  again, 
when  the  time  had  come  that  the  nations  of  Southern  Europe 
must  be  renovated,  or  Christianity  and  man's  advancement  be- 
come extinct,  He  stirred  up  the  countless  tribes  of  the  North, 
whose  incursions  beyond  the  Alps  gave  the  grand  impetus  to 
modern  progress.  Surely  the  hand  of  God  has  marked  the 
course  of  the  white  man.  There  is  a  glorious  destiny  to  which 
He  is  guiding  him,  and  for  which  He  created  him.  Providence 
then,  as  well  as  reason  and  research,  indicates  an  original  diver- 
sity  of  races. 


CHILDHOOD   OF   SCIENCE.* 


In  the  middle  centuries  of  the  Christian  era,  between  two  ages 
of  promise  and  of  progress,  occurred  the  gloomiest  period  in 
human  annals.  The  thousand  years  that  ended  with  the  fifteenth 
century  have  been  named,  by  the  common  consent  of  historians, 
the  dark  ages  of  the  world.  All  the  lights  of  ancient  civiliza- 
tion were  extinguished  in  the  growing  darkness  of  that  period. 
The  grace  of  Grecian  culture  and  the  charm  of  classic  literature 
relapsed  into  ugly  wranglings  and  the  empty  war  of  words. 
The  amenities  of  social  life  and  the  peaceful  sway  of  civil  law 
sank  into  the  misrule  of  passion  and  the  lawless  reign  of  feuds. 

It  was  a  strange  and  unaccountable  relapse,  for  the  records  of 
noble  civilizations  were  on  the  shelves  of  the  monasteries,  and 
under  the  dust  of  ages  lay  the  volumes  of  the  teachers  of  anti- 
quity, of  Plato  and  Socrates,  of  Euclid  and  Archimedes,  of 
Pythagoras  and  Aristotle.  With  many  of  the  elements  of 
knowledge  and  the  revelations  of  nature,  with  the  unlit  lamps  of 
science  and  philosophy  in  their  hands,  the  scholars  of  the  middle 
ages  groped  and  stumbled  through  the  night  of  a  thousand 
years. 

In  the  year  1346,  on  the  famous  battle-field  of  Crecy,  in  the 
heart  of  France,  thirty  thousand  Englishmen  under  Edward  the 
Third  and  his  son  the  Black  Prince,  gave  battle  to  a  French 
army  of  four  times  their  number.  But  from  the  English  van- 
guard, we  are  told,  the  booming  of  cannon  for  the  first  time 
broke  in  on  the  clang  of  spears  and  the  twang  of  crossbows. 
The  mail-clad  archers  were  stricken  with  terror  as  they  saw  their 

*  A  Lecture  written  in  I860,  and  delivered  at  various  places  in  Illinois. 


188  CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE. 

ranks  plowed  by  unseen  and  resistless  missiles.  One  of  the  finest 
armies  that  France  ever  raised  was  that  day  beaten  with  the 
most  fearful  slaughter  on  record.  The  use  of  artillery  was  the 
fatal  blow  to  ancient  chivalry ;  for  it  rendered  useless  the  brute 
courage  of  hand  to  hand  conflicts,  and  made  the  issue  of  battles 
to  depend  on  the  element  of  numbers  and  guns. 

A  hundred  years  later  (1450),  in  the  German  town  of  Mentz, 
three  humble  artists,*  with  the  utmost  precautions  for  secrecy, 
were  working  at  the  mystic  art  of  book  making.  The  unwieldy 
but  neatly  printed  folios  which  they  issued  were  the  superstitious 
wonder  of  Christendom.  Indeed  the  pious  Parisians  burned 
their  first  consignment  of  books  as  the  work  of  witchcraft.  But 
no  art  was  ever  more  eagerly  seized  upon  by  the  nations  of 
Europe  than  was  that  of  printing.  This  was  a  second  and  a 
greater  blow  dealt  at  the  institutions  of  the  dark  ages ;  for  it 
carried  knowledge  to  the  fireside  of  the  lowly  hamlet,  and  enabled 
the  people  to  form  a  public  opinion,  which  is  the  greatest  coun- 
terpoise of  bigotry  and  oppression. 

The  fifteenth  century,  the  terminating  period  of  the  dark 
ages,  closed  with  the  announcement  of  a  series  of  most  splendid 
geographical  discoveries.  The  Portuguese  had  boldly  pushed 
out  into  the  Atlantic  and  added  to  their  charts  the  outlying 
islands.  Columbus  from  over  the  western  ocean  brought  the 
tidings  that  he  had  found  the  golden  Indies.  Yasco  de  Gama 
crept  around  the  stormy  cape  of  Africa  and  reached  the  Indies 
of  an  opposite  hemisphere. 

The  opening  up  of  new  worlds  at  the  same  time  opened  up 
new  spheres  of  thought  and  judgment.  The  bursting  of  the 
boundaries  of  the  old-world  geography  had  much  to  do  with  the 
overthrow  of  the  old-world  boundaries  of  creed  and  opinion. 
Within  twenty  years  the  heroes  of  the  Reformation  were  storm- 
ing the  hoary  castles  of  Romanism.  Erasmus  was  hurling  his 
satire  against  monastic  ignorance  and  grimace.  Martin  Luther 
was  launching  his  denunciations  against  the  trafic  of  indulgences. 
And  immediately  came  Calvin  and  John  Knox  to  sweep  up  and 
clean  out  the  rubbish  of  Popery. 

*  Johann  Gutenberg,  Johaun  Faust,  and  Peter  Schoffer. 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  189 

In  the  last  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  literature  had  its 
most  flourishing  period ;  when  Queen  Elizabeth  (1558—1603),  as 
well  from  her  own  elevated  tastes  as  from  a  peculiar  spite  at  the 
Puritans,  extended  the  patronage  of  royalty  to  talent,  especially 
the  dramatic  ;  when  Sidney  paraded  his  heroes  in  the  "Arcadia," 
and  Spencer  sang  the  allegory  of  the  "  Faerie  Queen  ;  "  when 
Shakspeare  new-vamped  kings  and  immortalized  them  in  tragedy, 
while  "  rare  Ben.  Jonson  "  did  the  same  for  their  fools  in  comedy. 

But  the  brightest  constellation  of  genius  was  seen  rising  on  the 
world  in  the  year  sixteen  hundred.  It  was  then  that  Francis 
Bacon  was  preparing  the  canons  of  his  new  philosophy ;  that 
Napier,  the  Baron  of  Merchiston,  was  following  up  that  splendid 
mathematical  induction  which  ended  in  the  discovery  of  Logar- 
ithms ;  that  Tycho  Brahe  was  just  closing  at  Prague  his  memor- 
able observations  on  the  planets.  It  was  then  that  Galileo  was 
wrestling  with  the  forces  of  nature,  making  himself  strong  for 
the  great  contest  with  the  schools,  and  the  fiery  Kepler  was 
searching  in  the  heavens  for  the  unwritten  laws  of  creation. 
Thus  was  science  the  last-born  of  the  brotherhood  of  Letters 
—the  latest  but  the  mightiest  leader  in  the  second  march  of 
civilization. 

The  first  and  by  much  the  hardest  task  of  every  new  instructor 
is  to  unteach  the  errors  and  unseat  the  prejudices  which  have 
found  a  lodgment  in  the  universal  mind.  For  the  purpose 
therefore  of  bringing  out  the  earliest  struggles  of  the  school  of 
science,  we  must  first  unfold  the  errors  and  prejudices  with 
which  it  had  to  contend. 

In  the  scope  of  the  sciences  dependent  on  observation,  astrol- 
ogy was  the  great  and  universal  error  of  the  early  ages.  It  was 
observed  that  the  sun  regulated  nearly  all  the  phenomena  of 
nature,  as  the  growth  and  death  of  vegetation,  the  changes  of 
seasons  and  climate,  the  life  and  habits  of  animals.  The  moon 
also  had  her  influences,  directly  in  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tides, 
indirectly,  as  was  generally  thought  and  as  many  still  think,  in 
the  determination  of  the  weather,  and  in  all  the  critical  condi- 
tions of  plant  and  animal  life.  From  such  premises  the  leap  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  planets  and  the  stars  had  much  to  do  with 


190  CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE. 

the  affairs  of  men  and  of  kingdoms,  was  as  nothing  for  the 
logical  vaulters  of  those  days.  In  accordance  with  this  theory, 
the  fixed  stars  in  the  zodiac,  or  sun's  path,  were  divided  into 
twelve  signs,  each  supposed  to  preside  over  a  particular  part  of 
the  body,  as  Aries  the  head,  Taurus  the  neck,  and  so  on.  In 
this  circuit  of  the  heavens  were  also  distributed  life  and  death, 
marriage  and  children,  riches  and  honors,  friends  and  ememies, 
and  the  entire  catalogue  of  human  interests  and  affections. 
Then  that  star  of  zodiac  which  rose  in  the  east  at  the  moment  of 
the  birth  of  any  child,  became  the  controlling  influence  of  that 
life,  and  predictions  were  made  for  it  in  all  after  time  according 
to  the  approach  of  this,  its  "  first  house,"  to  the  influences  of  any 
planet,  the  sun  or  moon. 

Through  the  long  night  of  the  middle  ages  the  only  observer 
in  the  unexplored  realms  of  nature  was  the  astrologer,  who  cata- 
logued the  stars  only  to  fill  a  fortune-teller's  tables,  who  calculated 
the  intricate  problems  of  siderial  time  and  the  precession  of 
the  equinoxes  only  to  cast  back  the  horoscope,  who  configured 
the  mazy  paths  of  the  planets  only  to  forecast  their  influence  on 
some  "  star  of  destiny/'  Yet  so  fascinating  were  the  pretensions 
of  judicial  astrology,  so  sweeping  its  generalities,  and  so  vague 
its  proofs,  that  it  held  captive  the  strongest  minds  of  the  age. 
Roger  Bacon,  Kepler,  and  Francis  Bacon  consulted  its  divinations; 
Tycho  Brahe  was  extremely  credulous  of  its  presages ;  and 
Cardan,  the  great  algebraist,  died  to  accomplish  an  astrological 
prediction. 

In  experimental  science,  the  only  workers  of  the  middle  ages 
were  the  alchemists.  In  dark  and  smoky  cells,  retired  or  hidden 
from  the  sight  of  men,  untold  numbers  of  these  so  called  chem- 
ists wore  out  their  lives  at  the  furnace  and  smelter.  With  the 
simple  furnishment  of  mortar  and  crucible,  of  alembic  and 
aludel,  of  quick-silver  and  amalgams,  of  aqua  fortis  and  aqua 
regia,  the  old  alchemist  experimented  with  untiring  iteration  for 
the  three  phantoms  of  the  gold-seeker- — the  grand  alkahest  or 
universal  solvent,  the  philosopher's  stone  or  the  quintessence  of 
the  metals,  and  the  grand  elixir  or  the  universal  panicea.  With 
the  solvent  all  the  baser  metals  were  to  be  reduced  to  their  primal 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  191 

constituents.  With  the  philosopher's  stone  the  contaminating 
elements  were  to  be  separated  out,  until  gold  the  refined  and  sub- 
tle essence  of  matter  remained  as  the  residuum.  The  grand 
elixir  was  to  conquer  infirmity  and  confer  upon  its  imbibers  the 
immortal  youth.  On  these  lofty  but  futile  abstractions  the  old 
enthusiast  labored  until  he  was  borne  from  the  laboratory  to  the 
cemetery — from  the  grave  of  his  genius  to  the  grave  of  the  tomb. 
So  numerous  were  the  votaries  who  squandered  their  fortunes 
and  devoted  their  lives  in  these  absurd  vagaries,  that  the  Catholic 
Church  found  it  necessary  to  fulminate  its  bulls,  and  the  State  to 
enact  penal  statutes  against  them. 

The  few  mysterious  truths  of  the  universe  which  the  astrolo- 
gers had  discovered,  and  the  few  secrets  of  nature  which  the 
alchemists  had  elaborated,  strange,  isolated,  and  inexplicable, 
made  even  the  learned  of  the  dark  ages  credulous  of  almost  any- 
thing. Physical  science  was  magic;  and  chemistry  especially 
seemed  to  have  an  elective  attraction  for  all  that  was  illusory  and 
mystical.  It  was  the  ghost-time  of  philosophy ;  and  all  nature 
seemed  wrapped  in  a  weird  portentous  shadow.  Hence  sprung 
the  dreamy  tenets  of  the  Cabalists,  the  arrogant  pretensions  of 
the  Eosicrusians,  and  the  pantheism  of  the  Theosophers. 

The  first  feeble  light  of  science  that  appeared  in  the  gloom  of 
the  middle  ages  was  Roger  Bacon,  who  figured  during  the  last 
half  of  the  thirteenth  century.  He  was  acquainted  with  the 
composition  of  gunpowder,  and  treated  of  the  wonderful  pro- 
perties of  lenses.  He  was  however  accused  of  having  fabricated 
a  brazen  head  according  to  the  prescriptions  of  occult  philosophy, 
which  uttered  oracles  to  him  when  consulted  by  magical  incan- 
tation. He  used  his  new  powder  to  such  noisy  purpose  and  his 
dark  arts  with  such  fearful  effect  that  he  became  the  terror  of  the 
community.  He  worked  also  in  alchemy,  and  supposed  he  had 
discovered  the  great  medicine  which  was  to  carry  him  over  the 
centuries;  but  at  the  age  of  seventy  he  was  poisoned  by  his 
brother  Gray-friars,  and  the  grand  elixir  proved  to  be  a  failure. 

However,  notwithstanding  this  tinge  of  folly  and  superstition, 
Roger  Bacon  had  many  of  the  elements  of  the  true  philosopher. 
He  was  learned  in  the  languages  and  in  all  the  physical  know- 


192  CHILDHOOD   OF    SCIENCE. 

ledge  of  the  day.  He  dared  to  appeal  from  the  authority  of  the 
schools,  from  the  dicta  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  to  the  guidance 
of  nature  and  of  reason.  For  this  and  his  denunciation  of  their 
immorality,  he  drew  upon  himself  the  hostility  of  the  monks 
and  clergy.  On  an  accusation  of  studying  and  practicing  magic 
he  was  summoned  before  a^high  Council  of  the  church,  his  writ- 
ings were  condemned,  and  he  was  sentenced  to  ten  years  confine- 
ment in  his  cell. 

Roger  Bacon  was  the  first  to  declare  that  observation  and 
experiment  must  be  at  the  foundation  of  all  science,  that  from 
facts  we  must  reason  up  to  principles,  a  doctrine  which  was  dia- 
metrically opposed  to  all  the  reasonings  and  practice  of  scholastic 
philosophy.  And  it  was  not  until  four  hundred  years  later  that 
these  canons  of  inductive  science  were  successfully  established 
by  his  more  fortunate  and  illustrious  name-sake,  Francis  Bacon. 
But  had  the  times  been  ripe  for  the  truth,  it  is  more  than  prob- 
able that  the  friar  would  have  superceded  the  chancellor. 

Two  centuries  later  in  a  Benedictine  cell  the  child-worker  in 
chemistry,  Basil  Valentine,  was  experimenting  in  search  of  that 
fifth  element  which  was  to  decompose  and  transmute  all  the 
metals  into  gold.  But  while  he  toiled  his  life  out  over  this  great 
delusion  he  seems  to  have  discovered  some  of  the  most  import- 
ant medicines  and  chemicals  of  the  early  pharmacy.  His  chief 
exultation  however  was  in  what  he  called  "  the  triumphal  car  of 
antimony"  —  anti-moines  —  the  anti-monk  medicine.  Tartar 
emetic  is  one  of  the  preparations;  and  it  was  said  that  the  old 
Doctor  once  experimented  on  a  convent  of  monks,  and  that  he 
left  not  a  shaven  crown  of  them  all.  No  wonder  they  thought 
that  antimony  did  not  exactly  agree  with  monks. 

Early  in  the  sixteenth  century  Bombastes  Paracelsus,  the  last 
of  the  alchemists,  was  called  to  a  professorship  of  chemistry  in 
the  University  of  Bale — a  strange  erratic  man,  whose  genius 
like  a  meteor  flashed  across  the  morning  sky — a  man  of  extremes, 
on  the  one  hand  so  learned  and  eloquent  that  he  carried  his  aud- 
iences whither  he  would,  on  the  other  so  vain  and  boastful  that 
the  word  "bombast"  has  been  derived  from  one  of  his  high 
sounding  names.  His  success  as  a  physician  bordered  on  magic, 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  193 

liis  insolence  as  a  professor  bordered  on  madness.  He  did  not 
stop  with  contemning  the  time-honored  authorities  in  learning, 
but  he  harangued  his  crowds  of  hustling  students  around  fires 
that  were  fed  with  the  books  of  the  schoolmen.  With  an  unspar- 
ing hand  he  laid  bare  the  tricks  of  pharmacy,  the  delusions  of 
astrology,  and  many  assumptions  of  alchemy.  With  an  insight 
as  clear  as  Chancellor  Bacon's,  he  exposed  the  sophistries  of 
scholasticism,  the  futile  methods  of  inquiry,  and  the  utter  emp- 
tiness of  all  the  philosophy  that  had  gone  before.  But  high 
above  his  practice  of  physic,  his  experiments  in  science,  and  his 
criticisms  of  the  school  systems,  there  seems  ever  to  have  flitted 
that  vague  wild  conception  of  something  yet  unattained — some 
potent,  dark-hidden  essence  of  matter,  which  once  found  would 
compel  nature  to  deliver  over  her  riches. 

Such  was  the  man  who  for  a  time,  with  his  fascinating 
eloquence,  his  inane  egotism,  and  his  mad  pranks,  kept  up  such 
a  storm  in  poor  little  Bale  that  the  magistrates  were  forced  to 
banish  him  from  his  chair.  Having  soon  after  abandoned  him- 
self to  vice,  he  sank  into  infamy,  and  died  wretched  and  forsaken 
at  an  obscure  tavern  in  Salzburg.  But  his  work  was  done ;  his 
errand  as  a  public  agitator  was  accomplished.  He  was  the  lump 
of  acid  thrown  into  the  crucible  of  alkali  that  had  been  filling 
up  for  a  thousand  years,  and  which  ceased  not  to  effervesce  till 
all  was  neutralized  and  purified. 

As  we  approach  the  dividing  line  between  the  old-school  and 
the  new-school  philosophers,  it  will  be  well  to  understand  fully 
the  difference  between  the  principles  and  the  modes  of  thought 
that  characterized  each.  We  will  therefore  for  a  moment  com- 
pare and  contrast  the  new  or  inductive  method  with  the  old  or 
deductive  system. 

It  is  now  well  understood  that  there  is  but  one  true  way  of 
prosecuting  physical  research.  Facts,  observations  and  experi- 
ments must  first  of  all  be  gathered  together  and  classified. 
From  these,  conclusions  may  be  formed  such  as  explain  or  com- 
prise each  different  class  of  phenomena.  From  these  conclusions, 
more  general  principles  may  be  predicated ;  and  from  these 
principles  we  may  step,  it  may  be,  to  the  one  law  that  binds  them 


194  CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE. 

all  in  harmony.  This  is  the  great  secret  of  induction,  of  the 
a-posteriori  reasoning,  from  facts  up  to  general  principles. 
The  opposite  method  is  deduction,  or  a-priori  reasoning,  from 
general  principles  down  to  particular  things. 

To  this  latter  method  the  ancients  obstinately  clung.  It  is 
true  that  the  old  Greek  mathematicians,  reasoning  from  a  few 
axioms  and  general  truths,  proving  each  proposition  by  more 
simple  demonstrations  that  had  gone  before,  had  deduced  a 
perfect  system  of  Geometry.  But  there  the  utility  of  the  method 
ended ;  and  so  far  as  science  is  concerned  there  might  just  as 
well  have  been  a  blank  from  Euclid  to  Kepler,  from  Archimedes 
to  Galileo.  Yet  who  has  not  read  in  his  classics  how  those 
vaunted  philosophers  of  old  labored  and  struggled  to  discover 
the  great  axioms  of  nature,  by  which  to  explain  the  phenomena 
of  the  world  about  them,  on  ,which  to  build  their  Geometry  of 
common  life  ?  One  makes  "  fire  "  the  essential  matter  and  origin 
of  the  universe ;  another  "  air ; "  a  third  discovers  the  key  to 
every  difficulty  in  the  "  infinitude  of  things ; "  while  a  fourth 
can  invent  nothing  more  unintelligible  than  "  entity  and  non- 
entity." At  length  came  the  great  authority  which  was  to  sway 
the  opinions  of  men  for  two  thousand  years.  Aristotle  constructs 
his  universe  on  "  matter,  form,  and  privation  ; "  and  the  phenom- 
ena which  he  cannot  bring  under  this  senseless  triad  of  words 
are  handed  over  to  "  occult  causes,"  about  which  it  is  forbidden 
us  to  reason.  The  highest  efforts  of  deductive  philosophy  served 
only  to  raise  standards  of  profitless  phrases,  about  which  argu- 
ment and  disputation  continually  revolved.  It  was  the  dizzy 
dance  of  error  and  delusion,  in  which  those  who  entered,  ended 
where  they  began. 

In  order  to  show  how  different  was  the  result  when  inductive 
philosophy  was  installed  in  the  place  of  the  ancient,  allow  me  to 
unfold  a  few  of  the  steps  by  which  one  of  the  early  and  most 
important  discoveries  of  science  was  reached,  the  fact  and  the 
law  of  the  attraction  of  gravitation.  Scarcely  two  hundred 
years  ago,  Sir  Isaac  Newton  in  his  garden,*  watched  with 

*  During  his  retirement  to  Woolsthorpe  in  1666,  where  he  went  to  avoid  the 
plague. 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  195 

thoughtful  eye  the  fall  of  apples  from  the  tree.  Objects  fall  in 
the  same  manner  from  the  highest  elevations  on  earth,  and 
meteors  fall  from  unknown  heights  in  the  sky.  Why  then  may 
not  this  gravity  be  a  tendency  which  reaches  beyond  the  earth, 
even  to  the  moon  ?  A  stone  attached  to  a  string  and  whirled  in 
the  air,  is  kept  from  flying  off  by  the  tension  of  the  string. 
Why  may  not  gravity  be  the  chain  that  holds  the  moon  in  its 
sweep  of  thousands  of  miles?  Light  which  emanates  from  a 
central  point  was  known  to  decrease  in  intensity  in  the  inverse 
proportion  of  the  square  of  the  distance.  Analogy  would  teach 
that  gravity  if  it  reached  out  into  space  would  be  in  accordance 
with  the  same  law.  If  now  he  could  know  accurately  the  moon's 
distance  and  how  much  it  weighed,  he  could  easily  figure  out  the 
force  which  was  necessary  to  hold  it  in  its  orbit ;  and  if  it  was 
the  same  that  the  known  mass  of  the  earth  would  exert  at  that 
distance,  then  his  hypothesis  would  be  a  proved  fact.  It  was  some 
years  before  accurate  estimates  were  made  on  the  elements  of  his 
problem.  But  ultimately  his  figures  realized  his  most  sanguine 
expectations ;  and  thus  was  seated  on  the  throne  of  science  the 
most  potent  ruler  of  the  world  of  facts. 

It  would  be  ungenerous  to  pass  on  to  the  child-workers  in 
science  without  paying  our  tribute  to  the  illustrious  father  of 
inductive  philosophy.  The  Novum  Organon  of  Francis  Bacon,* 
I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  contains  more  original  thought  than  any 
other  book  that  ever  sprung  from  the  genius  of  man.  The  world 
of  literature  at  the  time  when  he  wrote,  less  than  three  hundred 
years  ago,  was  a  dreary  waste ;  yet  this  lonely  traveler,  unaided, 
with  scarce  a  finger-board  to  point  his  way,  has  given  us  the 
guide-book  of  knowledge  from  that  day  to  this. 

With  a  boldness  that  startled  those  rude  ages  he  declared  that 
philosophy  had  been  going  wrong  from  the  foundation  of  letters ; 
that  men  had  sought  to  make  a  world  from  their  own  conceptions, 
and  to  draw  from  their  own  minds  the  materials  which  they  em- 
ployed. They  had  totally  disregarded  the  facts  of  nature,  and 
without  any  intermediate  steps  had  leaped  at  once  to  the  most 
sweeping  and  absurd  generalizations.  The  way  that  promises 

*  Born  in  1561— Died,  1626. 


196  CHILDHOOD   OF    SCIENCE. 

success,  said  he,  is  the  reverse  of  this.  It  requires  that  we  gen- 
eralize slowly,  going  from  particular  things  to  those  that  are  but 
one  step  more  general,  from  those  to  others  of  still  greater 
extent,  and  so  on  to  such  as  are  universal.  He  then  points  out 
the  various  methods  of  inductive  reasoning,  their  comparative 
importance,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  to  be  used.  Not 
only  does  he  thus  new-create  his  philosophy,  but  he  is  compelled 
to  originate  the  examples  which  illustrate  and  make  it  intelligible, 
to  start  in  their  onward  paths  the  very  sciences,  then  unknown, 
whose  manual  of  discovery  he  was  writing.  He  is  as  it  were  the 
inventor  of  some  intricate  and  wonderful  machine,  but  totally 
useless  until  he  shall  also  have  discovered  materials  and  commod- 
ities on  which  to  set  it  at  work. 

The  Novum  Organon  was  the  work  of  a  life-time.  Through- 
out a  busy  and  illustrious  career  of  high  professional,  literary, 
and  political  successes,  it  was  the  ever  recurring  subject  of  the 
author's  thought  and  labor.  Revised  and  rewritten  twelve  times, 
it  received  year  by  year  the  increments  of  his  maturing  and 
creative  mind.  It  was  the  work  of  a  seer,  of  one  who  forecasted 
the  future.  The  founder  of  the  new  philosophy  wrote  for  ages 
that  were  to  come.  He  did  not  expect  to  be  appreciated  or 
understood -in  his  own  time;  neither  was  he.  The  king  said  it 
was  a  book  past  understanding.  Another  said  it  was  such  a  work 
as  a  fool  could  not  write  and  a  wise  man  would  not.  Sir  Edward 
Coke  wrote  this  distich  on  the  title  page  of  his  copy : 

"It  deserveth  not  to  be  read  in  schools, 
But  only  to  ballast  a  ship  of  fools." 

Such  a  reception  of  his  most  labored  effort  called  out  that  touch- 
ing expression  in  Lord  Bacon's  will :  "  I  bequeathe  my  name  to 
posterity  after  some  time  be  passed  over." 

A  hundred  years  before  science  had  its  great  expounder,  away 
on  the  banks  of  the  then  lonely  Vistula,  a  young  Polish  student 
was  poring  over  the  astronomical  system  of  Ptolemy.  The 
problem  which  Copernicus*  had  set  before  himself  was  one  of 
peculiar  difficulty.  It  was  none  other  than  to  rearrange  the 
wheel-work  of  the  stars,  to  bring  order  and  symmetry  into  the 


*  Born  in  1473— Died,  1543. 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  197 

jumble  of  machinery  and  clashing  spheres  which  the  ancients 
had  piled  up  in  the  heavens. 

According  to  this  labored  and  complex  system,  the  starry  vault 
was  arched  over  by  a  series  of  spheres  of  the  clearest  crystal, 
sliding  one  upon  another  in  grooves  or  furrows  parallel,  serpen- 
tine, or  spiral.  No  less  than  twelve  of  these  spheres,  or  deferents 
as  they  were  called,  thus  spanned  the  firmament.  The  outermost 
one,  the  blue  empyreal  realm  of  the  gods,  was  the  "primiim 
mobile"  or  the  chief  mover,  within  which  the  others  grated, 
slid,  or  clashed  according  to  the  requirements  of  the  motions 
they  were  set  to  produce.  The  fixed  stars  twinkled  in  one  of 
the  furthest  spheres.  Saturn  had  one  all  to  himself  ;  so  Jupiter 
and  Mars.  The  sun  was  borne  onward  in  another,  and  the  moon 
appropriated  the  lowest.  But  after  all  this  comfortable  arrange- 
ment it  was  found  that  the  planets  would  not  keep  their  places 
in  the  circles.  The  sun  was  much  nearer  to  the  earth  in  winter 
than  in  summer;  and  the  moon  strayed  into  all  manner  of 
devious  paths.  To  arrange  for  these  irregularities,  other  circles 
were  framed  into  the  spheres,  and  the  planets  and  luminaries  re- 
volved, each  its  own  way,  on  epicycles  whose  centers  were 
carried  forward  in  the  deferents.  Again,  as  new  variations  were 
discovered,  other  wheel-work  was  added,  new  grooves  were 
notched  in  the  solid  arches,  cycle  on  epicycle,  centric  on  eccentric 
were  piled,  until  the  heavens  were  such  an  orderless  mass  of 
running  gear  as  would  have  put  to  shame  the  genius  of  any 
modern  wheel-wright.  Yet  this  was  the  time-honored  astronomy 
of  the  early  centuries,  the  fondling  of  philosophy  and  the  dogma 
of  the  church. 

On  it  Copernicus,  a  traveled  and  accomplished  scholar,  labored 
for  fifteen  years,  till  only  getting  confusion  worse  confounded  he 
finally  abandoned  the  entire  system  of  Ptolemy,  fixed  the  sun  in 
the  center  of  the  universe,  and  set  the  other  worlds  revolving 
about  it.  He  gave  to  the  earth  the  double  motion  of  rotating  on 
its  axis  and  following  the  other  planets  in  almost  inconceivable 
distance  and  rapidity  about  the  central  luminary.  It  was  a  bold 
and  startling  hypothesis ;  so  far  beyond  all  conception  that  it  did 
not  even  disturb  the  watchful  censors  of  the  church  of  Rome. 


198  CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE. 

The  work  which  expounded  the  new  doctrine,  the  "  De  Revolu- 
tionibus,"  lay  unpublished  in  the  study  of  its  author  for  thirty- 
six  years ;  and  even  then  remained  unnoticed  for  more  than  fifty 
years  longer.  The  fact  was,  the  theory  of  Copernicus  was  only 
an  hypothesis.  It  could  lay  no  claim  to  being  an  inductive  dis- 
covery, and,  until  Galileo  took  hold  of  it,  was  no  more  a  proved 
fact  than  were  the  absurdities  of  Ptolemy's  Almagest.  The  dis- 
coverer himself,  so  said  Kepler,  did  not  seem  to  know  the  worth 
or  extent  of  his  own  discovery.  He  gave  the  earth's  axis  an 
extra  revolution  to  maintain  its  parallelism  among  the  fixed  stars. 
He  retained  the  cumbrous  notion  of  epicycles  and  eccentrics ; 
and  only  differed  from  the  old  masters  in  idealizing  their  solid 
superstructures,  in  removing  the  center  of  operations  and  enlarg- 
ing their  boundaries.  He  took  great  credit  to  himself  for  so 
arranging  his  running  gear  as  to  do  away  with  one  set  of 
Ptolemy's  balancing  wheels  known  as  the  equants.  Evidently 
the  time  had  not  yet  arrived  for  the  new  school  of  science. 

Fifty  years  after  the  death  of  Copernicus,  Kepler*  had  com- 
menced his  Herculean  labors.  Through  a  mass  of  figures  that 
would  have  terrified  a  score  of  other  men,  he  brought  to  light  the 
three  primary  laws  of  planetary  motion.  Seemingly  simple  and 
easy  of  discovery,  these  laws,  which  have  been  of  such  inesti- 
mable service  in  the  advance  of  knowledge,  were  yet  arrived  at 
through  severer  toil  and  more  disheartening  failures  than  have 
characterized  the  establishment  of  whole  sciences  since  that  time. 
The  only  method  of  calculation  that  Kepler  knew  anything 
about  was,  like  the  process  of  the  school-boy  ciphering  by  "  trial 
and  error,"  to  guess  at  the  answer  and  then  work  out  the  sum  as 
if  it  were  the  true  one,  then  guess  again,  mayhap  a  little  nearer 
correct.  Thus  did  this  man  of  indomitable  perseverance,  but  of 
moderate  mathematical  talents,  erect  for  himself  a  most  stupen- 
dous monument  of  figures  and  of  errors.  Thirty  ponderous 
volumes  record  his  blunders  arid  their  proof.  A  few  choice 
pages  establish  the  most  fortunate  discoveries  of  science. 

And  in  this  I  would  not  be  understood  to  say  anything  derog- 
atory of  the  remarkable  genius  of  Kepler ;  but  simply  to  imply 

*  Born  in  1571— Died,  1630.     Wiirtemburg,  Germany. 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  199 

that  he  failed  to  grasp  the  true,  method  of  discovery.  The  time 
had  not  then  arrived  for  the  systematic  researches  of  induction. 
The  great  school-master  of  the  new  system  was  not  yet  abroad. 
However  we  cannot  but  admire  the  frank  unresting  mind,  the 
great  honest  heart,  and  the  fiery  questioning  spirit  of  this  medi- 
eval philosopher.  His  writings  tell  us  the  whole  story  of  his 
mistakes  and  his  successes,  his  troubles  and  his  rejoicings,  his 
struggles  with  thought  and  his  struggles  with  hunger ;  for  a  life 
of  bitter  want  and  disappointment  had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  this 
devoted  disciple  of  learning.  "  If  God  stand  by  me,"  would  he 
say,  "  and  look  to  the  victuals,  I  hope  to  perform  something  yet." 
His  treatise  on  the  perturbations  of  Mars  reveals  greater  pertur- 
bations in  his  domestic  economy.  While  he  searches  in  vain  for 
the  laws  of  dependence  between  the  planets  and  their  great 
parent  the  sun,  he  bemoans  equally  the  feeble  dependence 
between  himself  and  the  numerous  little  satellites  that  revolved 
about  him.  His  great  work,  "  The  Harmonies  of  the  World," 
showed  far  more  the  harmonies  of  a  noble  spirit  that,  over  the 
hardships  of  poverty,  the  mortifications  of  failure,  and  the 
persecutions  of  the  Wiirtemburg  doctors,  could  look  calmly  and 
cheerfully  to  the  glorious  meed  which  posterity  would  award  to 
his  labors  if  successful. 

Kepler  seems  to  have  had  a  Heaven-born  intuition  that  there 
was  some  law  of  harmony  regulating  the  movements  of  the 
solar  system.  But  what  was  the  nature  of  it,  or  how  he  came 
by  the  notion,  he  had  no  more  idea  than  he  had  of  Newton's 
Calculus.  Yet  he  set  himself  to  testing  by  actual  figures  and 
trial  every  conceivable  relation  that  a  genius  peculiarly  fertile  in 
hypotheses  could  suggest.  From  Tycho  Brahe's  observations  he 
calculated  the  path  of  Mars  through  seven  oppositions,  figuring 
out  each  ten  times.  In  the  absence  of  logarithms  and  the  aids 
of  algebra  the  figures  of  each  calculation  covered  ten  folio  pages, 
making  seven  hundred  pages  in  all ;  an  enormous  labor  in  itself, 
but  it  was  only  the  first  step  in  his  tentative  process.  His  object 
being  to  discover  what  device  or  complication  of  curves  would 
agree  with  the  true  observed  places  of  Mars,  he  tested  the  circle 
in  every  possible  variation  of  eccentric  and  epicycle.  But  none 


200  CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE. 

of  them  would  give  him  the  true  place  within  eight  minutes. 
Ten  of  the  best  years  of  Kepler's  life  were  thus  spent  in  trying 
to  reconcile  the  planetary  motions  to  the  mystic  and  divine  prop- 
erties of  the  circle.  At  last,  from  the  simple  circumstance  of 
his  happening  to  use  the  ellipse  to  facilitate  his  calculations, 
came  his  first  great  discovery,  that  the  planets  all  revolve  in 
elliptical  orbits,  witli  the  sun  in  one  of  the  foci  or  centers. 

The  second  law  of  planetary  motion  discovered  by  Kepler, 
which  is,  that  a  line  connecting  the  sun  with  any  planet  would 
pass  over  equal  areas  in  equal  time,  was  rather  in  the  nature  of  a 
mathematical  corollary  from  the  first  law,  and  therefore  did  not 
require  much  time  or  eifort  for  its  discovery. 

But  the  intuitions,  the  almost  inspirations  of  Kepler's  mind, 
that  there  were  definite  relations  between  the  distances  from  the 
sun  and  the  periods  of  revolution  of  the  planets,  were  not  yet 
realized  ;  and  so  long  as  those  "harmonies  of  the  universe"  were 
unascertained,  he  accounted  all  his  other  discoveries  as  nothing. 
He  therefore  commenced  at  once  and  over  again  his  dreary  wan- 
derings in  the  fields  of  conjecture.  He  followed  up  each 
shadowy  indication  of  a  relation,  till  hope  was  exhausted  in  that 
direction,  then  turned  off  to  another  with  the  simple  regret  that 
the  last  had  been  such  a  sad  thief  of  his  time.  He  ran  down  to 
their  farthest  absurdity  the  vague  conjectures  of  Greek  philoso- 
phy, dozed  with  Plato  and  dreamed  with  Aristotle.  For  a  long 
time  he  held  by  the  numerical  harmonies  of  Pythagoras ;  then 
by  the  five  regular  geometrical  solids  of  Plato.  But  his  longest, 
dreariest  wanderings  were  in  the  endeavor  to  fix  the  musical 
gamut  in  the  skies,  to  guage  the  motions  of  the  planets  by  some 
relations  of  concords  of  sounds. 

Over  twenty  years  were  thus  spent  in  these  baffled  efforts,  till 
at  last  it  occurred  to  him  to  compare  the  various  powers  as  the 
square  and  cube  of  the  planetary  elements.  He  eventually  hit 
upon  the  very  relation  which  afterward  became  the  law.  But 
this  time,  with  his  usual  ill-luck,  the  poor  man  made  a  mistake 
in  his  figures,  and  was  again  tossing  on  the  sea  of  uncertainty. 
Months  afterwards,  however,  he  was  induced  to  recur  to  the  same 
figures,  namely,  the  ratio  of  the  squares  of  the  periodic  times 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  201 

and  the  cubes  of  the  mean  distances  of  the  planets.  That  is, 
taking,  for  instance,  the  earth's  revolution  about  the  sun  as  one 
(year),  and  the  distance  from  the  sun  as  one  (radius),  the  square 
and  cube  of  which  are  still  one  ;•  then,  as  the  periodical  time,  say 
of  Saturn,  is  about  29|-  years,  one  is  to  the  square  of  29J  as  one 
is  to  the  cube  of  Saturn's  distance  from  the  sun  in  radii  of  the 
earth's  orbit.  The  sum  worked  out  gives  9|-  radii  for  Saturn's 
distance ;  that  is,  Saturn  should  be  9^  times  further  from  the  sun 
than  the  earth  is.  In  this  second  trial,  Kepler  found  to  his  infi- 
nite satisfaction  and  delight  that  the  rule  would  hold  exactly  true 
in  the  case  of  all  the  planets.  It  was  in  reality  a  capital  discov- 
ery ;  for  it  was  the  one  column  on  which  was  constructed  the 
whole  science  of  celestial  mechanics.  It  was  the  foundation  of 
all  of  Newton's  demonstrations ;  for  it  gave  the  only  absolute 
proof  of  universal  gravitation.  It  was  the  germ  from  which 
have  sprung  more  physical  truths  than  from  any  other  discovery 
that  has  ever  been  made.  Yet  at  the  time  when  it  was  made  I 
can  hardly  conceive  how  it  should  have  been  regarded  as  more 
than  a  curious  relation,  a  freak  of  the  Great  Artificer.  At  least 
so  thought  those  who  came  after  Kepler ;  and  seventy  years 
passed  before  the  Principia  of  Newton  gave  to  the  world  the 
first  sign  of  its  true  importance..  Yet  Kepler,  with  a  scientific 
instinct,  a  sublime,  inexplicable  foresight,  records  the  8th  of  May, 
1618,  as  the  day  of  the  most  important  discovery  of  his  life  and 
of  the  age  ;  and  he  bursts  forth  in  that  ever  memorable  rhapsody  : 
"  Nothing  holds  me.  I  will  indulge  in  my  sacred  fury.  I  will 
triumph  over  mankind  by  the  honest  confession  that  I  have 
stolen  the  golden  vases  of  the  Egyptians  to  build  up  a  tabernacle 
for  my  God  far  away  from  the  confines  of  Egypt.  If  you  for- 
give me,  I  rejoice.  If  you  are  angry,  I  can  bear  it.  The  die  is 
cast ;  the  book  is  written,  to  be  read  either  now  or  by  posterity ; 
I  care  not  which.  It  may  well  wait  a  century  for  a  reader,  as 
God  has  waited  six  thousand  years  for  an  observer." 

The  last  and  the  greatest  name  I  have  to  mention  is  that  of 
Galileo  the  Florentine,  who  in  the  year  1600  and  at  the  age  of 
36,  had  just  commenced  his  eventful  career  as  the  first  experi- 
mental philosopher  and  the  sturdy  creed-questioner.  Up  to  this 


202  CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE. 

time  the  crudest  and  vaguest  notions  had  existed  on  the  subject 
of  motion  and  force.  Aristotle  had  divided  all  motion  into 
natural  and  violent,  and  had  taught  that  it  was  a  kind  of  disposi- 
tion residing  in  arid  exercised  by  the  moving  body.  If  it  fell 
towards  the  earth,  that  was  natural  motion,  and  in  accordance 
with  its  disposition.  All  other  motion  was  unnatural  and  soon 
exhausted  itself.  Levity  or  lightness  was  supposed  to  be  just  as 
much  a  property  of  substances  as  color  or  density.  Thus  smoke 
ascended  because  it  was  endued  with  absolute  levity.  Air  did 
not  press  or  gravitate  on  water  because  it  was  in  its  proper  place 
above  it ;  but  stones  and  earth  sank  in  water  because  their  proper 
place  was  beneath  it.  Water  rose  in  a  pump  or  siphon  because 
nature  abhorred  a  vacuum ;  but  very  unaccountably  it  abhorred 
it  only  thirty-two  feet.  It  was  taught  that  two  pounds  of  lead 
would  fall  twice  as  far  in  a  minute  as  one  pound  would ;  and 
that  a  body  would  fall  twice  as  far  in  two  minutes  as  in  one.  In 
short,  the  whole  school  philosophy  was  but  another  name  for 
error  and  confusion  of  ideas  ;  to  dispel  which  Galileo  enunciated 
his  three  laws  of  motion,  the  laws  of  fluids,  of  falling  bodies, 
of  pneumatics,  in  a  word  the  established  science  of  mechanics. 
But  far  less  for  these  discoveries  than  for  the  wit  and  argument 
with  wrhich  he  combatted  the  errors  of  scholasticism  and  the 
inveterate  opposition  of  the  church,  is  he  entitled  to  the  tribute 
of  the  greatest  champion  of  science.  Aristotle  had  taught  and 
the  sacred  scriptures  implied  that  the  earth  was  the  fixed  center 
about  which  the  heavens  and  the  celestial  bodies  revolved.  The 
hierarchy  of  Koine  had  staked  its  infalibility  on  the  geocentric 
hypothesis,  and  the  dreaded  inquisition  had  arrayed  its  terrors 
against  the  heresy  of  disbelief.  Yet  Galileo  had  the  hardihood 
and  the  genius,  at  a  time  when  but  little  was  known  of  the  laws 
of  motion,  and  nothing  of  the  revelations  of  the  telescope,  to 
declare  himself  the  supporter  of  the  Copernican  system,  and 
prepared  to  prove  it  against  all  the  world.  Its  opponents  argued 
that  if  the  vast  earth  rotated  daily  on  its  axis,  everything  mov- 
able on  its  surface  would  be  hurled  into  space  like  water  from 
the  rim  of  a  revolving  wheel.  Galileo  replied  that  they  had 
entirely  mistaken  the  nature  of  gravity,  which  was  nothing  more 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  203 

than  the  balance  of  opposing  forces,  the  surplus  of  the  attraction 
of  the  earth  over  the  centrifugal  force  from  its  rotation.  But, 
said  he,  if  you  see  an  objection  in  the  centrifugal  force  on  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  what  is  going  to  become  of  your  own  sys- 
tem when  that  force  is  carried  out  to  the  distance  of  the  sun  and 
moon  and  stars?  What  conceivable  power  can  hold  them  in 
a  daily  revolution  about  the  earth?  The  school-men  again 
declared  that  the  amazing  rapidity  of  the  flight 'of  the  earth 
through  space,  a  thousand  miles  in  a  single  breath,  would  soon 
leave  its  fragments  strewed  in  its  wake  like  the  wreck  of  a  storm- 
driven  ship.  Galileo  objected  to  this  the  inertia  of  matter,  the 
first  great  law  of  motion.  If  a  body  is  once  set  in  motion  it  will 
continue  in  that  motion  until  stopped  by  some  other  force.  Thus 
we  as  safely  ride  the  flying  world  as  the  flying  chariot.  Again 
they  said,  and  it  was  the  argument  most  strenuously  insisted 
upon,  that  if  the  earth  wras  in  motion  from  west  to  east  then  a 
ball  dropped  from  a  high  tower  should  fall,  not  at  its  base,  but 
to  the  westward  of  it,  which  was  not  the  case.  It  was  taught  in 
their  books  that  an  object  let  fall  from  the  mast-head  of  a  vessel 
in  motion  would  strike  the  deck  at  a  certain  distance  behind  the 
foot  of  the  mast.  Much  more  then  should  the  ball  from  the 
tower  fall  away  from  the  base.  To  this  Galileo  replied  that 
their  quoted  experiment  would  give  no  such  result  as  was 
.claimed.  The  object  while  falling  from  the  mast-head  would 
continue  to  have  the  same  forward  motion  that  the  ship  had,  and 
would  drop  exactly  at  the  foot  of  the  mast ;  and  to  convince 
them  that  this  was  so,  the  experiment  was  actually  tried  on  a 
vessel  in  the  harbor  of  Marseilles. 

Thus  did  this  sturdy  philosopher,  while  establishing  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  mechanics,  at  the  same  time  uproot  the 
errors  of  scholasticism  and  overthrow  the  dogmas  of  creed  phil- 
osophy. But  in  all  this  time  he  was  gradually  arousing  against 
himself  the  implacable  enmity  of  that  power  which  for  a  thous- 
and years  had  been  dealing  out  law  to  kings  and  creeds  to  states, 
and  had  furnished  as  well  opinions  for  the  high  as  indulgences 
for  the  low.  Already  he  had  been  ordered  to  desist  from  his 
bold  teachings.  But  for  the  unresting  mind  of  Galileo  to  cease 


204  CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE. 

its  work  was  as  much  an  impossibility  as  for  the  sun  to  hold  back 
its  rajs.  Come  what  might  in  the  bitter  end,  his  call  was  to 
think,  to  experiment,  and  to  teach. 

It  was  in  the  year  1609  that  a  report  came  to  Galileo  that 
Metius,  a  Dutch  optician,  had  succeeded  in  so  combining  two 
lenses  as  to  make  distant  objects  seem  near.  More  was  not  told, 
nor  needed.  The  next  day  Galileo  had  a  telescope  that  tripled 
the  breadth  of  objects ;  and  in  a  few  weeks  he  had  constructed 
one  which  magnified  thirty-two  diameters.  This  wonderful  tube 
he  first  pointed  to  the  moon ;  and  with  what  amazement  he  saw 
for  the  first  time  those  rugged  mountains  and  chasms,  those  deep 
fissures  and  lava  streams  sweep  across  the  field  of  view,  you  who 
have  ever  sat  down  to  the  sight  may  faintly  conceive.  Here  was 
another  world  like  the  one  we  tread  on,  vast  and  mountain-girt, 
circling  on  in  its  unsustained  flight  about  the  earth,  at  once  the 
long  desired  analogy  to  the  earth  revolving  about  the  sun,  and  a 
final  answer  to  the  old  dogma  of  the  schools  that  the  heavenly 
bodies  were  divine  and  therefore  beyond  the  sphere  of  reasoning 
or  of  causation.  What  could  be  more  unspiritual  than  mountain 
chains  and  crater  vortices? 

Again  he  turned  his  magnifying  gaze  to  Venus,  and  with  a 
joy  that  was  well  nigh  ecstacy  he  beheld  the  horns  and  the  cres- 
cent, as  Copernicus  had  predicted  a  hundred  years  before  they 
should  appear  to  an  enlarged  vision.  Could  he  longer  doubt  that^ 
Yenus  was  one  of  the  children  of  the  sun  ?  Pushing  still  out- 
ward his  gaze  he  saw  for  the  first  time  the  four  moons  that  wheel 
obedient  to  the  influence  of  Jupiter.  Might  he  not  call  them 
the  grand-children  of  the  same  great  parent  of  light  and  of  life? 
Mars  in  his  telescope  waxed  and  waned  as  the  moon  in  full  quar- 
ters. While  Saturn  with  its  rings  seemed  like  three  vast  worlds 

^ 

overlapping  each  other.  Is  it  strange  then  that  this  great  world- 
discoverer  should  arise  each  night  from  his  sublime  disclosures 
more  and  more  convinced  of  the  comparative  littleness  of  this 
globe  of  ours,  of  the  insufficiency  and  the  arrogance  of  that 
philosophy  which  made  it  the  center  of  the  universe  and  the  sole 
object  of  creation  ?  Is  it  a  wonder  that  his  mind  was  exalted 
above  the  bigotry  of  a  creed-bound  faith  to  the  worship  of  that 


CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE.  205 

majestic  God  to  whose  power  neither  vastness-nor  space  nor  time 
present  the  shadow  of  a  limit. 

But  a  still  greater  surprise  awaited  Galileo  when  he  turned  his 
telescope  to  the  fixed  stars.  Expecting  to  find  them  greatly  en- 
larged as  all  the  planetary  stars  had  been,  he  was  startled  to 
behold  them  the  same  glistening  points  of  light  that  greet  our 
eyes  each  cloudless  night,  brighter  yet  still  of  no  sensible  magni- 
tude. But  where  to  the  naked  eye  a  few  only  could  be  discerned, 
there  burst  upon  his  lens-eyes  tier  upon  tier  of  twinkling  orbs, 
countless  and  unending ;  so  deep  set  in  the  limitless  void,  so  infi- 
nite in  distance,  that  no  breadth  of  vision  could  in  the  least 
enlarge  them.  Could  it  be  possible  they  were  also  so  immeasur- 
ably remote  that  even  the  diameter  of  the  earth's  orbit  formed 
no  sensible  angle  with  them  ?  The  Ptolemaists  had  been  hither- 
to unanswered  in  this  their  last  argument,  that  the  earth's  axis, 
being  always  unchanged  in  direction,  should,  by  the  new  system, 
in  a  revolution  whose  diameter  was  near  two  hundred  million 
miles,  point  successively  to  a  circle  of  stars  in  the  northern  sky, 
instead  of  pointing  to  that  single  Pole  star  the  whole  year  round. 
Yes,  Galileo  could  now  answer  back  that  it  was  no  longer  an  un- 
certain hypothesis  that  the  North  Star  was  so  vastly  remote  that 
it  would  not  seem  to  have  changed  its  place  by  a  hair's  breadth, 
though  viewed  from  opposite  bounds  of  the  earth's  stupendous 
journey. 

Thus  did  this  single-handed  philosopher  beat  back  his  oppon- 
ents step  by  step;  and  Dialogue  succeeded  Dialogue  as  new 
truths  were  to  be  established  or  further  errors  combatted.  He  is 
now  an  old  man  of  seventy  years.  His  hairs  are  blanched  by 
study  and  watchings  and  benefits  to  mankind.  He  is  already 
preparing  for  the  rest  of  the  faithful  servant  whose  work  has 
been  well  done,  when  a  summons  reaches  him  to  appear  before 
the  tribunal  of  the  Inquisition  and  answer  to  charges  of  heresy 
and  blasphemy.  In  the  dark  chambers  of  that  secret  court,  with 
all  the  insignia  of  intolerant  power  and  the  appliances  of  torture 
before  him,  the  old  man  is  solemnly  called  upon  to  renounce  the 
great  truth  which  his  whole  life  has  been  consecrated  to  reveal 
and  maintain,  "  the  motion  through  space  of  the  earth  and  planets 


206  CHILDHOOD    OF    SCIENCE. 

around  the  sun."  Then  came  the  sentence  of  the  tribunal, 
banning  and  anathematizing  the  doctrine  that  the  sun  is  the 
center  of  the  system  "  as  a  tenet  philosophically  false  and  formally 
heretical."  And  then  they  sentenced  that  old  and  infirm  philos- 
opher— this  band  of  infallibles !  They  bade  him  abjure  and 
detest  the  said  errors  and  heresies.  They  decreed  his  book  to  the 
flames,  and  they  condemned  him  for  life  to  the  dungeons  of  the 
Inquisition. 

And  did  Galileo  yield  at  last?  Broken  down  by  age  and 
infirmity,  importuned  by  friends  more  alarmed  than  himself  at 
the  terrors  of  that  merciless  tribunal,  he  signed  his  abjuration, 
yielded  all  his  judges  demanded,  echoed  their  curse  or  ban  as 
their  superstition  or  their  hate  required.  He  is  not  the  martyr 
of  science.  But  as  he  arose  from  the  floor  on  which  while  kneel- 
ing he  had  pronounced  his  great  perjury,  a  spark  of  the  old  fire 
of  his  manhood  came  back  to  him,  and  he  stamped  his  foot  and 
exclaimed  to  those  about  him,  "  e  pur  si  muove  " — "  and  yet  it 
does  move."  Yes,  thou  wronged  and  persecuted  philosopher,  it 
moves — it  will  move  till  the  eternal  day.  And  each  rotation 
that  lifts  the  bright  sun  in  the  east,  each  revo)ution  that  brings 
again  the  glad  spring,  shall  attest  thy  sturdy  but  over-tried  faith, 
and  bring  honor  to  thy  venerable  name.  It  was  the  last  of  the 
old  man's  teachings.  Thenceforth  he  made  haste  to  the  bourne 
which  divides  us  from  care. 


THE   HUNS   OF   ATTILA/ 


Only  a  few  seasons  have  passed  since  tidings  reached  us  of 
commotion  and  conflict  on  the  far  off  banks  of  the  Danube  ;  and 
the  tale  of  the  wrongs  of  Hungary  aroused  a  lively  interest  in 
every  land.f  Then  came  the  stirring  news  of  battle  and  carnage. 
The  brave  Magyars  had  stood  forth  to  breast  the  tide  of  leagued 
oppression,  had  nobly  and  for  a  time  successfully  striven  in  the 
fight  for  liberty.  Every  liberal  heart  throbbed  with  pride  and 
sympathy  in  those  manly  aspirations  and  gallant  struggles.  But 
soon  came  the  sad  accounts  of  disaster  and  defeat.  Again  the 
nations  mourned  another  Poland  fallen — buried  beneath  the 
crushing  weight  of  Cossack  tyranny. 

Two  years  later,  a  war-steamer,  floating  a  strange  banner  of 
stripes  and  stars,  steamed  up  the  Strait  of  Bosphorus  to  the  seat 
of  the  Moslem  empire,  and  presented  to  the  Sultan  an  order  from 
the  civilized  nations  of  the  world  for  the  release  of  the  Hungar- 
ian refugees  from  Turkish  prisons.^  The  patriot  exiles,  who 
were  at  once  a  burden  and  a  menace  to  the  effete  monarchies  of 
the  old  world,  received  a  glad  welcome  in  our  last  born  of 
nations.  Soon  in  all  our  temples  was  heard  the  voice  that  had 
been  the  soul  and  center  of  the  Hungarian  struggle,  sounding 
forth  witli  thrilling  magic,  though  in  a  tongue  but  recently 
acquired,  the  thoughts  that  kindle  and  the  words  that  burn.  The 
patriot  of  his  father-land  toiled  while  among  us,  with  all  the 

*A  Lecture  written  and  first  delivered  at  Skaneateles,  N.  Y. ,  in  1852. 

f  The  last  Hungarian  Revolution  and  struggle  against  Austria  and  Russia, 
with  Kossuth,  Gorgey,  and  Bern,  as  leaders,  occurred  in  1849. 

^  The  steamer  Mississippi  was  sent  to  Constantinople  in  the  Fall  of  1851, 
and  brought  away  Louis  Kossuth,  his  family  and  friends  to  our  country  as 
the  guests  of  the  United  States  Government. 


208  THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA. 

power  of  a  mighty  genius,  for  aid  in  tlie  cause  of  his  down- 
trodden country.  Doubtless  it  was  inexpedient  for  us  to  adopt 
the  measures  he  advocated.  Yet  for  his  unfaltering  honesty  I 
respect  the  man ;  for  his  giant  intellect  I  honor  him ;  for  his 
devoted  patriotism  I  revere  him.  He  failed  ;  but  steadfast  in 
his  purpose,  he  now  awaits  on  the  borders  of  Europe  the  awaken- 
ing of  the  oppressed.  While  to  those  in  whom  his  hopes  have 
been  disappointed,  he  sends  the  significant  message  that  his  days 
of  declaiming  are  ended,  that  the  only  speech  he  has  yet  to 
make  is,  "  Up,  soldiers,  and  follow  me." 

These  national  events  and  the  presence  of  its  great  chieftain 
and  champion  among  us,  have  given  to  whatever  relates  to  Hun- 
gary an  especial  interest.  Even  the  legendary  stories  of  the 
early  founders  of  this  nation,  comprising  the  long  and  eventful 
wanderings  of  the  hordes  of  the  Huns  and  the  achievements  of 
Attila  their  first  known  king,  sufficiently  interesting  in  them- 
selves, will  impress  us  the  more  vividly  that  now  the  voice  of 
him  who  was  wont  to  glory  in  such  rude  ancestry  has  scarce  yet 
lost  its  echo  on  our  shores,  and  the  memory  is  yet  fresh  of  the 
desperate  strife  for  independence  of  those  who  claim  to  be 
descended  from  those  barbarians,  and  "ambitiously  insert  the 
name  of  Attila  among  their  native  kings." 

Of  the  doubts  of  some  historians  respecting  this  martial  gene- 
alogy, we  need  not  stop  here  to  consider.  It  is  sufficient  to  know 
that  even  in  the  time  of  Attila*  the  Huns  had  given  their 
name  to  Hungary ;  and  when,  four  centuries  later,  Arpad  with 
another  body  of  Huns  came  down  from  northern  Europe  he  was 
joined  by  the  descendants  of  the  Huns  of  Attila,  and  these  were 
the  undoubted  ancestors  of  the  Magyars  who  constitute  the  chief 
part  of  the  population  of  Hungary. 

If  one  should  seek  by  the  dim  light  of  ancient  history  and 
tradition  the  spot  from  which  diverged  the  first  migrations  of  the 
tribes  of  human  kind,  he  would  always  be  led  by  undeviating 
lines  to  the  lofty  table  lands  of  Central  Asia.  Thither  are 
merged  and  lost  the  earliest  traces  of  the  swarming  tribes  that 
in  ancient  times  successively  peopled  or  overspread  the  eastern 

*Attila  fought  the  great  battle  of  Chalons  in  A.  D.  451. 


THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA.  209 

continents.  As  we  shall  soon  find  this  to  be  the  native  land 
of  the  Huns,  it  will  be  interesting  for  a  few  moments  to  look  in 
upon  these  rugged  home-lands  of  races,  and  to  search  out  the  in- 
fluence which  they  have  had  on  the  destinies  of  the  world. 

Stretching  centrally  across  the  immense  continent  of  Asia  from 
west  to  east  is  a  wide  belt  of  uneven  table-lands,  averaging 
between  one  and  two  miles  in  height  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 
It  is  about  five  hundred  miles  in  width  and  perhaps  three 
thousand  in  length.  On  the  north  side  are  the  lofty  ranges  of 
the  Altai  mountains  and  the  sources  of  the  great  Siberian  rivers. 
On  the  south  side  are  the  stupendous  peaks  of  the  Himalayas, 
from  which  arise  the  sacred  rivers  of  India  and  China.  But  the 
mountain-locked  valleys  between  have  no  water  outlets  in  any 
direction.  Large  streams  and  even  rivers  run  down  through 
them,  emptying  into  salt  lakes  and  basins,  and  there  end. 
Evaporation  is  the  only  known  discharge.  Over  the  eastern 
half  of  this  singular  belt  extends  the  great  desert  of  Gobi,  the 
most  inclement  and  desolate  tract  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  Yet 
in  all  times,  and  to-day,  along  the  streams  and  oases  of  this  bleak 
and  storm-beaten  desert,  roving  tribes  of  Mongolians  pitch  their 
tents  of  felt,  and  pasture  their  thriving  herds.  The  western  half, 
known  as  the  great  Steppes  of  Tartary,  abounds  in  rich  grazing 
lands,  in  fertile  valleys,  and  in  hunting  forests.  The  climate, 
although  somewhat  rigorous  in  winter,  is  yet  of  surpassing 
healthf  ulness ;  and  there  seems  to  be,  in  all  the  surroundings  of 
these  romantic  regions,  just  that  element  of  ruggedness  and  hard- 
ship that  brings  forth  the  most, restless,  daring,  and  prolific  races 
of  mankind. 

"  These  inaccessible  regions,"  says  Gibbon,  "  were  the  ancient 
residence  of  a  powerful  and  civilized  nation  which  ascends  by  a 
probable  tradition  above  forty  centuries."  There  is  no  doubt 
that  these  mountain  highlands  have  been  overflowing  with 
nomadic  races,  of  various  states  of  culture,  from  times  beyond 
the  reach  of  tradition  or  mythology.  They  have  supplied  the 
dynasties  and  the  ruling  caste  to  the  races  of  southern  Asia  since 
oriental  nations  have  had  an  existence.  From  thence  have  issued 
the  innumerable  hordes  of  the  Tartars  which  in  the  earliest  times 


210  THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA. 

so  often  ravaged  the  plains  of  the  south.  Here  were  produced 
the  prolific  swarms  of  the  Calrnucks,  or  Black  Huns,  that  men- 
aced and  overran  the  Chinese  borders  from  a  period  of  twelve 
centuries  before  the  birth  of  Christ.  From  the  high  regions  of 
the  north  came  also  the  White  Huns  in  later  times,  a  polite  but 
warlike  people,  whose  monuments  of  victory  dotted  the  plains 
from  the  Caspian  Sea  to  the  mouth  of  the  Indus. 

Beneath  the  metalline  mountains  of  the  Altai,  the  race  of 
the  Turks  forged  at  their  anvils,  the  basest  slaves  of  the  great 
Khan  of  the  Moguls.  About  the  middle  of  the  sixth  century  of 
our  era,  it  suddenly  came  into  the  minds  of  these  stalwart  smiths 
that  they  might  just  as  well  use  the  weapons  they  were  forging, 
as  to  hand  them  over  to  their  task-masters  to  use.  And  there- 
upon they  rose  up  against  their  oppressors,  established  themselves 
in  their  place,  and  forthwith  commenced  a  series  of  conquests 
which  ended  in  the  founding  of  the  grandest  empire  of  the 
middle  ages. 

In  the  twelfth  century  the  terrible  Zengis  Khan  led  from  these 
Highlands  the  myriads  of  the  Moguls,  and  w^e  are  told  that  the 
crowded  hosts  of  the  Southrons  were  mown  like  hemp  before 
his  conquering  blades.  A  world  of  shepherd  barbarians  bowed 
to  his  sway,  and  the  Mogul  dynasties  were  seated  on  the  thrones 
of  Asia. 

But  we  return  to  the  race  that  has  been  styled  the  Black  Huns 
of  Tartary,  whose  character  and  wanderings  and  conquests  we 
have  undertaken  to  present  before  you  this  evening.  Perched 
then  on  their  mountain-girt  uplands,  twelve  centuries  before  the 
Christian  era,  we  find  this  rugged  and  untamed  race  becoming 
the  terror  and  the  despoilers  of  Asia.  A  nation  of  herdsmen, 
they  subsisted  almost  entirely  on  the  milk  and  flesh  of  their 
flocks  and  herds,  as  also  of  their  horses.  Their  habitations  were 
rude  tents,  or  at  best  small  huts  which  might  easily  be  mounted 
on  wagons,  always  ready,  whenever  choice  or  necessity  bade 
them,  to  move  to  other  pasture  grounds.  Their  sports  were  the 
boldest  feats  of  horsemanship  or  the  dangerous  chase  of  the  bear 
and  the  boar.  Constant  practice  had  seated  them  so  firmly  on 
horseback  that  rider  and  horse  seemed  to  have  grown  into  one 


THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA.  211 

animal ;  and  the  old  Greek  historians  related  that  they  ate  and 
slept  and  lived  on  the  backs  of  their  steeds.  Every  circumstance 
of  their  habits  and  surroundings  contributed  to  make  them  bold 
in  battle  and  rapid  on  the  march. 

The  earlier  chieftains  of  the  Huns  had  extended  their  con- 
quests and  dominions  so  widely  that,  at  the  time  when  they 
became  formidable  to  the  empire  of  China,  they  were  found  to 
be  the  rulers  of  the  entire  northern  part  of  Asia.  On  the  one 
side  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  on  the  other  the  Ural  Mountains,  had 
stayed  their  conquests.  On  the  south  they  were  bounded  by  the 
empires  of  China  and  Persia ;  while  on  the  north  their  arms  had 
pierced  the  frozen  regions  of  Siberia  as  far  as  it  were  glory  to 
conquer  or  resistance  had  been  met  with. 

In  the  third  century  before  the  Christian  era  (B.  C.  215)  the 
incessant  forages  and  incursions  of  the  Huns  had  come  to  be  such 
a  terror  to  the  timorous  Chinamen  that  it  entered  into  their  wise 
little  heads  to  build  a  high  wall  of  defense  from  the  sea  to  the 
farthest  mountains  of  the  west.  So  they  set  to  work,  and  for 
fifteen  hundred  miles,  over  hills  and  ranges  and  every  obstacle, 
they  reared  a  cemented  wall  of  brick  and  stone,  20  feet  high  and 
23  feet  broad,  with  towers  and  parapets  and  a  highway  for  armies 
on  the  top,  the  most  stupendous  work  ever  accomplished  by 
human  hands.  But  it  was  a  vain  and  delusive  security.  The 
myriads  of  the  horsemen  of  the  north,  w4iose  impetuous  march 
had  never  been  stayed  by  the  chasms  and  precipices  of  their 
mountain  land,  found  but  a  feeble  barrier  in  the  Chinamen's 
rampart  of  stone.  It  seemed  rather  to  invite  attack  than  to 
repel  invasion  ;  for  we  read  that  within  a  few  years  after  its 
construction  the  stately  armies  of  the  empire  had  all  been  sur- 
rounded, cut  off,  or  defeated,  by  the  restless  and  resistless  cavalry 
of  the  Huns.*  For  more  than  a  century  then  did  the  rude 
warriors  of  the  mountains  levy  their  tribute  on  the  luxury  and 
handicraft  of  the  foremost  nation  of  antiquity.  Not  only  bales 
of  silks  and  embroideries,  but  bevies  of  fair  maidens  from  the 
south,  found  their  way  yearly  to  the  rude  and  unaccustomed 
service  of  border  chieftains. 


*  In  the  reign  of  the  Chinese  Emperor  Kaoti.     B.  C.  201. 


212  THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA. 

At  length  there  came  to  the  throne  of  China  an  emperor  who 
proved  himself  able  to  cope  successfully  with  these  barbarian 
conquerors.*  He  bought  over  some  wrild  Tartar  tribes  of  the 
north,  and  recruiting  his  army  with  these  hardy  mountaineers, 
he  sent  it  out  to  hunt  up  and  give  battle  to  the  unsuspecting 
Huns.  This  army  pierced  many  hundred  miles  into  the  northern 
wilderness,  and  at  the  dead  of  the  night,  while  the  stupor  of  riot 
and  drunkenness  was  brooding  on  the  camp  of  the  Huns,  sur- 
prised them  in  their  tents  and  left  fifteen  thousand  slain  as  the 
mark  of  their  victory.  Though  the  Hunish  chieftain  bravely 
cut  his  way  through  their  murderous  army  and  escaped,  it  was 
only  to  renew  the  contest  with  the  same  bloody  issue  and  disas- 
trous result.  From  that  ill-fated  night  the  power  of  the  Huns 
in  Asia  began  to  wane.  Long  years  they  struggled  against  their 
fate.  But  at  last  the  time  came  when  they  were  forced  to  bow 
to  the  yoke  of  their  ancient  tributaries.  With  stern  and  haughty 
reluctance  were  they  whose  Tanjous  had  reigned  for  thirteen 
hundred  years  the  sovereign  lords  of  Upper  Asia,  compelled  to 
draw  the  bow  and  rein  the  steed  with  the  mouthing  soldiers  of 
China.  The  spirit  of  freedom  that  was  fostered  by  the  wild  life 
of  the  herdsman  and  huntsman,  could  not  long  brook  a  servitude 
like  that.  With  these  rovers  it  must  be  absolute  independence 
at  home,  or  a  lawless  and  nomadic  life  in  other  lands. 

In  the  one  hundredth  year  of  our  era  the  spirit  of  migration 
broke  out  on  the  Highlands  of  Asia.  The  wild  and  unknown 
regions  of  the  west  were  open  to  nomadic  adventure  or  conquest ; 
and  westward  trended  the  wanderings  of  the  greater  portion  of 
the  Huns,  till  they  were  lost  on  the  tablets  of  history  and  their 
journeyings  were  noted  only  by  their  results.  For  as  in  their 
relentless  march  they  expelled  one  tribe  of  barbarians  from  their 
ancestral  pasture  grounds,  these  drove  out  a  neighboring  tribe, 
who  in  their  turn  pressed  upon  another,  till  Europe  received  the 
mighty  impulse,  and  the  world  of  barbarism  was  set  in  westward 
motion.  Tribe  after  tribe  rolled  on  along  the  frontiers  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  or  pealed  their  war-songs  at  the  gates  of  the  city 
that  from  its  seven  hills  had  ruled  the  world.  The  dismal  bell 


*The  Chinese  Emperor  Vouti,  of  the  Dynasty  of  Han.     B.  C.  90. 


THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA.  213 

of  fate  which  then  was  ringing  in  the  clang  of  passing  millions, 
tolled  out  to  old  Home  the  periods  of  the  progress  of  the  Huns. 

The  first  of  the  tribes  whose  movements  startled  the  quiet  of 
those  early  ages,  was  the  Franks,  a  confederacy  of  the  clans  that 
in  their  wild  independence  had  roamed  unmolested  amidst  the 
Black  Forests  of  Lower  Germany.  The  dictator  Caesar  had 
found  them  there  and  vainly  attempted  to  track  them  in  their 
inaccessible  wilderness ;  and  there  they  had  continued  to  defy 
the  Roman  legions.  But  now  (about  175  A.  D.),  driven  out 
from  this  retreat  by  some  resistless  impulse  from  the  regions 
beyond,  the  Franks  made  haste  to  spread  their  desolating  warfare 
and  plant  their  name  on  the  plains  of  France. 

Next  came  down  the  tribes  of  upper  or  northern  Germany, 
confederated  under  the  name  of  Alemanni — all-men — that  is, 
men  of  all  races,  and  all  fighting  men.  These  with  incredible 
swiftness  and  in  overwhelming  numbers,  overspread  the  northern 
provinces  of  Italy,  and  celebrated  their  barbaric  orgies  almost  in 
sight  of  Rome.  The  city  itself  was  preserved  only  by  the  most 
energetic  measures.  The  aged  senators  rushed  to  arms ;  the 
artisans  and  the  populace  hastened  with  one  accord  to  swell  the 
unaccustomed  army,  and  the  tide  of  this  appalling  irruption  wras 
rolled  back  on  the  forests  of  the  north.  For  many  years  the 
Alemanni  hovered  on  the  confines  of  the  Roman  territory,  the 
defeated  of  many  a  bloody  battle,  till  at  last  they  were  scattered 
and  merged  among  the  Franks  of  Gaul. 

Following  hard  upon  these,  came  the  ruthless  Goths,  the  jnost 
wide-spread  and  far-famed  of  the  barbarians  of  the  north.  They 
issued  from  the  regions  of  the  Baltic,  and  suddenly  their  count- 
less hordes  confronted  the  Romans  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube. 
What  may  have  been  the  original  impulse  of  this  eventful 
migration,  we  are  now  unable  to  say.  It  may  have  been  a 
famine  or  a  pestilence ;  or  more  likely  it  may  have  been  some 
terrible  defeat  inflicted  by.  the  on-pressing  myriads  of  the  north 
on  some  battle  field  now  hidden  beneath  the  gloomy  forests  of 
Russia.  For  it  must  have  been  about  this  time,  near  the  year 
250,  that  the  Black  Huns  of  Tartary  poured  down  the  Ural 
mountains  into  Europe ;  and  through  the  chain  of  the  tribes  of 


214  THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA. 

Sarmatia  the  shock  may  have  been  communicated  to  the  dwellers 
on  the  Baltic. 

How  strange  and  grand  on  the  chronicles  of  the  past  are  these 
nomadic  irruptions!  A  nation  with  its  unnumbered  millions 
starts  up  by  one  common  impulse,  and  moves  on  over  mountains 
and  deserts  and  river  barriers,  from  one  climate  to  another,  from 
continent  to  continent.  Without  a  regret  or  a  backward  look, 
they  leave  the  familiar  scenes  of  home  and  of  country,  the  spot 
where  lie  their  buried  dead,  and  carelessly  roam,  they  know  not 
whither.  We  look  upon  such  movements  with  amazement,  who 
have  been  wont  to  witness  the  never  dying  attachment  of  our 
own  aborigines  to  the  home  of  their  childhood,  the  land  of  their 
fathers.  And  nothing  more  clearly  disproves  their  common 
origin  with  the  wild  Tartars  of  upper  Asia,  than  these  diverse 
instincts  of  their  natures.  The  Indian,  whose  all  of  future  hope 
and  religion  lies  centered  in  the  earth-mound  where,  with  his 
tomahawk  and  scalping .  knife  by  his  side,  his  blanket  and  his 
trophies  around  him,  he  shall  rest  from  the  toil  of  the  hunts  and 
the  dances  of  the  spirit  land,  turns  with  a  longing  stronger  than 
the  instinct  of  life  to  the  hillocks  in  the  forest  which  he  has 
reared  for  burial  mounds.  But  the  Celt  or  the  Tartar  cared  little 
where  bleached  the  bones  of  his  ancestors,  or  where  over  his  own 
unheeded  body  the  carrion  beasts  should  hold  their  revel.  His 
religion  taught  him  to  dread  only  the  death  of  the  coward  and 
the  craven — that  only  the  souls  of  the  brave  are  the  care  of  their 
gods. 

These  rude  nomads  tilled  no  soil  and  gathered  in  no  harvests. 
Their  sustenance  was  their  flocks  and  herds,  their  only  domestic 
arts  the  cure  of  meats  and  the  preparations  of  milk.  Their 
dwellings  were  tents  and  wagons,  a  perpetual  encampment, 
within  which  were  nightly  gathered  their  numerous  animals. 
For  amusement  they  hunted  the  hare,  the  deer,  the  stag,  and  the 
elk.  But  no  chase  was  so  welcome  as  to  rouse  the  angry  boar,  to 
grapple  with  the  hungry  bear,  or  to  encounter  the  fierce  tiger  of 
the  northern  forests.  They  worshiped  only  the  god  of  war  and 
him  whose  voice  was  in  the  thunder.  And  for  these  stern 
divinities  the  altars  often,  reeked  with  the  blood  of  human 


THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA.  215 

victims.  In  each  succeeding  year  as  summer  approached,  these 
herdsmen  and  shepherds  were  wont  to  seek  fresher  pastures  on 
the  hill-sides  in  the  distant  northv  Again,  as  winter  drew  near, 
they  sought  the  protected  valleys  of  the  south,  ordinarily  herd- 
ing back  and  forth  by  the  beaten  tracks  of  former  seasons.  But 
anon,  as  the  herd-boy's  call  sounds  on  the  eventide  to  gather  in 
his  flocks,  a  rumor  is  borne  to  the  startled  camp,  that  tribe  after 
tribe,  in  the  far  reaches  of  the  east  and  the  north,  on  the  war- 
horse  and  the  car,  are  sweeping  on  in  the  course  of  the  setting 
sun.  Sharp  and  hasty  sounds  the  note  of  preparation  to  the 
bustling  throng;  and  ere  the  morning  dawns  the  warrior 
mounts  his  steed,  the  women  and  the  children  scramble  to  their 
seats  on  the  w^agon,  the  oxen  are  inspanned,  the  flocks  and  the 
herds  are  started  on,  and  the  driver  whoops  his  shrill  cry  for  the 
march.  Thus, 

"Oft  o'er  the  trembling  nations  from  afar, 
Has  Scythia  breathed  the  living  cloud  of  war; 
And  where  the  deluge  burst,  with  sweeping  sway, 
Their  arms,  their  kings,  their  gods,  were  rolled  away, 
As  oft  have  issued,  host  impelling  host, 
The  blue-eyed  myriads  of  the  Baltic  coast. 
The  prostrate  south  to  the  destroyer  yields 
Her  boasted  titles  and  her  golden  fields. 
With  grim  delight  the  brood  of  winter  view 
A  brighter  day  and  heavens  of  azure  hue, 
Scent  the  new  fragrance  of  the  blushing  rose, 
And  quaff  the  pendant  vintage  as  it  grows."* 

Four  hundred  years  had  passed  away  since  the  wise  men  of 
the  east  had  hailed  the  rising  star  of  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem. 
Christianity  from  its  feeble  beginning  had  come  to  be  a  religion 
of  state.  The  pontiffs  of  Rome  then  ruled  in  temporal  matters, 
and  the  mandates  of  the  church  went  forth  to  curb  and  to  unseat 
kings.  The  tribes  of  Gaul  (or  France)  had  become  Christianized 
and  were  the  allies  of  Christian  Rome.  The  empire  itself  had 
lost  as  yet  but  little  of  its  nominal  power,  though  governed  by 
two  emperors,  the  one  having  his  seat  in  the  east  on  the  Bos- 
phorus  and  the  other  in  the  ancient  capitol  on  the  Tiber.  But  in 

*  From  a  fragment  of  a  poem  by  Thomas  Gray.    Mason's  Life  of  Gray,  p.  196. 


216  THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA. 

the  mind  of  the  Roman  there  were  strange  forebodings  of 
coming  evil.  The  twelve  centuries  of  the  duration  of  Roman 
sovereignty,  foretold  in  the  twelve  vultures  that  appeared  to 
Romulus,  and  which  had  ever  been  regarded  as  a  prophecy  of 
destiny  to  Rome,  were  now  near  to  their  eventful  close.  An 
earthquake  of  more  than  usual  terror  had  recently  sent  the  sea 
careering  high  up  into  the  land,  had  toppled  down  stately  castles, 
and  caused  wide-spread  desolation  among  the  sons  of  the  south. 
This  to  Roman  superstition  had  betokened  some  direful  calamity. 
All  southern  Europe  was  at  this  time  anxiously  scanning  the 
horizon  for  some  signs  of  alarm ;  when  lo, .  on  the  far  off  bounds 
of  its  geography,  there  suddenly  loomed  up  the  dark  masses  of 
the  Huns.  Their  coming  was  heralded  from  en,d  to  end  of 
Europe;  and  rumor  catching  up  their  ferocious  habits  and  un- 
gainly proportions,  magnified  them  into  odious  monsters  sprung 
of  "  midnight  foul  and  hideous  hags."  With  a  shrill  piercing 
voice,  uncouth  in  mien  and  gesture,  with  beardless  face  and 
sunken  but  flashing  eyes,  with  a  massive  head  crowded  between 
broad  brawny  shoulders,  well  might  they  be  hailed  as  savages  by 
barbarians  of  other  worlds  than  their  own. 

But  little  time  however  was  given  for  fright  or  fables.  Like 
a  tempest  the  Huns  swept  onward,  deluging  the  land  with 
indiscriminate  slaughter,  or  drawing  into  the  vortex  the  tribes 
which  stood  in  their  way.  On  the  banks  of  the  Tanais  they  en- 
countered and  vanquished  the  wide-spread  Alani.  The  Ostrogoths, 
who  held  sway  from  the  the  Euxine  to  the  Baltic,  bowed  to  the 
storm.  The  Visigoths,  who  came  next  in  turn,  fled  frightened 
and  trembling  upon  the  tribes  of  the  west  and  south,  and  ere 
long, 'cowering  on  the  summits  of  the  Alps,  stood  gazing  on  the 
majesty  of  Italy. 

The  chieftain  of  these  now  driven  and  fugitive  Goths,  the 
renowned  Alaric,  had  once,  upon  some  occasion  of  defeat,  like 
Hannibal  of  Carthage,  sworn  upon  the  altar  of  his  gods  eternal 
enmity  to  Rome.  And  now,  six  hundred  years  later  and  in  the 
very  track  of  the  mighty  African,  he  was  leading  the  desperate 
myriads  of  the  north  in  one  of  the  grandest  irruptions  of  ancient 
times,  either  to  retrieve  his  fortunes  or  bury  his  name  and  his 


THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA.  217 

race  beneath  the  walls  of  the  "Eternal  City."  Host  upon  host 
of  Gothic  clans  poured  down  on  the  plains  of  the  Po ;  arid 
almost  before  the  rumor  of  the  approaching  deluge  had  reached 
the  capitol,  its  roar  was  heard  from  the  watch-towers,  and  Rome, 
whose  sacred  walls  had  never  known  till  now  the  unhallowed 
contact  of  barbarism,  looked  out  upon  a  raging  sea  of  north-men. 
Cut  off  from  all  supplies,  the  besieged  were  soon  reduced  to  the 
vilest  extremity  of  famine  and  pestilence,  and  were  compelled 
to  purchase  the  retreat  of  the  barbarians  at  the  price  of  tons  of 
gold  and  silver  and  silks  and  spices.  But  in  the  absence  of 
impending  danger,  the  old  Roman  haughtiness  returned,  and  the 
revolting  conditions  of  the  truce  were  spurned.  Again  Alaric 
stood  at  its  gates  and  summoned  the  proud  city  to  surrender. 
Again  he  dictated  the  terms  of  capitulation  and  retired,  having 
seated  on  the  imperial  throne  a  Roman  of  his  own  choosing. 
He  was  soon  however  recalled  again  by  another,  the  last  faint 
nickering  of  a  flame  that  had  once  blazed  brightly  on  a  universe. 
For  the  third  time  the  stern  Alaric  sat  down  before  the  gates  of 
the  queen  of  cities,  his  anger  aroused  by  the  childs-play  of  his 
fickle  enemies.  Treachery  speedily  opened  the  gates  to  his  army  ; 
and  at  the  still  hour  of  midnight,  suddenly  the  clang  of  barbarian 
arms  rang  out  on  the  silent  streets,  and  the  lurid  glare  of  confla- 
gration burst  on  the  appalled  city.  For  six  days  was  the  seat  of 
ancient  wealth  and  classic  beauty  given  over  to  the  licentious 
pillage  of  the  hordes  of  the  northern  forests  ;  and  the  track  was 
now  broadly  beaten,  in  which,  as  shortly  closed  its  twelfth 
century,  the  last  vestige  of  the  might  and  majesty  of  old  Rome 
was  trampled  out  beneath  the  iron  tread  of  barbarism. 

In  the  fifty  years  which  succeeded  their  first  appearance,  the 
Huns  had  become  the  masters  of  northern  and  eastern  Europe, 
as  of  old  they  had  been  of  northern  Asia.  The  Russian  and  the 
Finn  brought  down  to  them  their  furs ;  the  Eastern  Empire  sent 
tribute  of  its  wines  and  its  money ;  and  the  hardy  warriors  of 
Germany  and  Scandinavia  bore  the  bow  and  the  battle-ax  in  their 
lines.  It  was  then,  as  the  chieftain  of  these  savage  hordes,  that 
Attila  appeared,  a  leader  courageous,  resolute  and  relentless 


218  THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA. 

beyond  any  whose  deeds  have  been  recorded  in  history.     His 
appearance  is  well  described  in  these  lines  of  Herbert : 

"Terrific  was  his  semblance,  in  no  mould 
Of  beautiful  proportion  cast;  his  limbs 
Nothing  exalted,  but  with  sinews  braced 
Of  Chalybean  temper,  agile,  lithe, 
And  swifter  than  the  roe ;  his  ample  chest 
Was  overbrowed  by  a  gigantic  head, 
With  eyes  keen,  deeply  sunk,  and  small,  that  gleamed 
Strangely  in  wrath,  as  though  some  spirit  unclean, 
Within  that  corporal  tenement  installed, 
Looked  from  its  windows,  but  with  tempered  fire 
Beamed  mildly  on  the  unresisting.     Thin 
His  beard  and  hoary;  his  flat  nostrils  crowned 
A  cicatrized  swart  visage.     But  withal 
That  questionable  shape  such  glory  wore 
That  mortals  quailed  beneath  him." 

It  was  the  great  absorbing  desire  of  this  ambitious  man  to 
make  of  all  Europe,  from  the  midland  sea  to  the  frozen  ocean, 
one  wide  domain  of  anti-Christ,  and  himself  the  barbaric  mon- 
arch. To  this  purpose  bent  all  his  aims  and  his  energies.  He 
styled  himself  "  The  scourge  of  God  ;  "  and  with  Heaven-daring 
zeal  he  strove  to  make  good  the  impious  appellation.  His  pre- 
decessors had  achieved  for  him  the  conquest  of  all  but  the 
western  Roman  Empire,  with  Gallic  France  and  the  Peninsula. 
For  the  subjugation  of  France  then  did  Attila  gather  together 
his  clans  and  his  native  armies,  swelled  by  the  accretion  of 
numberless  tribes  and  levies ;  and  westward  again  swept  on  the 
flood  of  irruption.  The  track  of  the  Huns  as  heretofore  was 
one  broad  scene  of  havoc  and  slaughter,1  until  in  the  heart 
of  France  they  laid  siege  to  the  city  of  Orleans.  But  the 
unexpected  appearance  of  the  allied  armies  of  Italy  and  of 
Gaul  compelled  them  to  raise  the  siege  and  for  a  time  to  retreat. 

One  midsummer  day,  in  the  year  451,  on  the  banks  of  a  little 
rivulet  in  the  north-eastern  part  of  France,  a  traveler  paused  to 
rest  him  on  his  journey  and  to  look  out  on  the  broad  plains  of 
Chalons.  Through  all  this  champaign  country,  extending  a 
hundred  miles  around,  which  was  in  later  years  to  be  beautified 
by  countless  vineyards,  could  now  be  seen  only  the  desolate  waste 
left  by  the  barbarian  armies  in  their  recent  passage  southward. 


THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA.  219 

But  now  not  a  sound  stirred  the  air  ;  not  a  moving  thing  relieved 
the  monotony  of  ruin.  Again  the  wayfarer  looked  ;  and  far  on 
the  western  horizon  a  low  dark  shadow  seemed  rolling  up  from 
the  space  beyond.  Could  it  be  a  cloud  mounting  so  clear  a  sky, 
and  betokening  a  coming  storm  ?  Again  he  looked  ;  and  lo,  as  far 
as  the  eye  could  see,  there  darkened  against  the  setting  sun  the 
living  masses  of  innumerable  cavalry.  Startled  from  his  rest, 
the  traveler  sped  frightened  over  the  plain ;  and  soon  where  he 
had  stood  beside  that  brook  the  war-horse  of  Attila  pawed  the 
ground.  Poising  a  javelin  above  his  head,  the  chieftain  sent  it 
whirling  through  the  air,  till  far  in  the  distance  it  quivered 
in  the  sod.  "  Thus  far,"  said  he,  "  retreats  the  monarch  of  the 
Huns.  Pitch  there  my  tent ;  for  here  will  we  stay  yon  proud 
Roman,  or  leave  our  bones  to  whiten  on  these  plains." 

In  a  circle  of  many  miles  circumference,  the  cumbrous  wagons 
of  the  Huns  were  interlocked  with  each  other  in  double  lines, 
forming  a  strong  fortification,  and  having  one  only  opening  in 
the  front.  Within  this  enclosure  were  soon  collected  a  million 
horses  and  a  countless  swarm  of  human  beings.  Close  upon  their 
rear  came  the  Roman  general  Aetius,  with  his  Gothic  ally  The- 
odoric,  who  had  followed  the  Huns  from  the  siege  of  Orleans, 
and  now  encamped  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  brook.  There 
within  the  compass  of  a  few  leagues  were  assembled  the  nations 
of  all  Europe ;  on  the  one  side  the  barbarians  of  the  east  and 
the  north,  arid  all  who  hated  Rome  and  Christianity  alike  with 
an  intolerant  hatred  ;  on  the  other  side  the  legions  of  the  Roman 
Empire  with  the  vast  armies  of  the  Christianized  Visigoths  and 
the  tribes  of  Gaul.  Heathenism  and  Christianity,  barbarism  and 
civilization,  had  there  met  for  deadly  and  exterminating  conflict. 

Night  came ;  but  with  it  came  no  quiet  to  that  vast  multitude 
preparing  for  the  coming  battle.  The  sound  of  the  sledge  and 
hammer,  the  clanking  of  arms  and  armor,  the  wild  blast  of  the 
trumpet,  the  loud  and  startling  laugh,  and  the  native  war-songs 
shouted  in  savage  dissonance,  the  clatter  of  thousands  hurrying 
to  and  fro,  the  voices  of  sentinels  and  officers  rung  out  in  many 
a  discordant  tongue,  all  raised  on  the  air  of  night  so  hideous  a 
din,  that  naught  was  noted  beyond  the  passing  sight.  An 
accidental  encounter  of  some  divisions  of  either  army  occurred 


220  THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA. 

within  half  a  mile  of  the  Hunish  camp  for  the  possession  of  a 
ridge  which  would  command  the  flank  of  either  side  in  the 
coming  battle.  But  in  the  uproar  of  the  night  it  was  unheard 
or  unheeded,  although  fifteen  thousand  were  left  dead  on  the 
hill-side  before  Torismund,  the  valiant  son  of  Theodoric,  had 
occupied  the  eminence  for  the  Roman  army. 

It  was  well  past  the  mid-hour  of  the  following  day,  when  all 
preparations  were  completed,  and  the  two  vast  armies  were 
arrayed  against  each  other  on  opposite  sides  of  the  little  rivulet. 
On  one  side  Attila  at  the  head  of  his  brave  and  faithful  Huns 
occupied  in  person  the  center  of  his  line.  These  grim-looking 
warriors,  dark  and  hard-featured,  mounted  on  wild  unbridled 
horses,  with  the  bow  and  quiver  slung  at  their  shoulders  and  in 
their  hands  the  huge  naked  sword,  presented  by  far  the  most 
terrific  appearance  in  all  that  line  of  battle.  While  far  away  on 
their  right  and  their  left,  stretched  the  myriad  tribes  and  nations 
of  the  barbarous  north.  There  were  the  Gepidse,  the  Heruli, 
the  Geloni,  the  Scyrri,  the  Rugians,  Burgundians,  Thuringians, 
and  Belonoti,  and  the  thousand  hordes  that  roamed  the  wilderness 
from  the  Rhine  to  the  Volga.  On  the  extreme  left  were  posted 
the  tall  commanding  Ostrogoths,  next  to  the  low  ridge  which 
here  extended  along  the  ranks.  On  the  other  side  of  the  stream, 
Aetius  commanded  the  left  flank.  The  center  was  filled  with 
tribes  of  doubtful  constancy  or  valor,  the  robust  Alan,  the  sturdy 
Armorican,  and  the  gaudy  Frank.  While  on  the  right,  and 
opposed  to  the  Ostrogoths,  were  stationed  the  blue-eyed  light- 
haired  Visigoths,  led  on  by  their  aged  king  Theodoric. 

On  this  battle  field  of  the  early  ages,  were  thus  gathered  one 
and  a  half  millions  of  warriors.  It  was  the  grandest  and 
completest  armament  that  the  world  of  those  times  could  furnish. 
The  trained  and  selected  fighters  of  a  continent  were  facing  each 
other  on  that  day  of  destiny.  The  Roman  legions,  skilled  in  all 
the  tactics  of  antiquity,  the  Scythian  archers,  the  most  noted 
marksmen  of  all  times,  the  dexterous  spearmen  of  Gaul,  the 
powerful  wielders  of  the  Gothic  battle-ax,  and  the  Hunish  horse- 
men, beyond  question  the  most  daring  riders  in  the  world, 
swelled  the  squadrons  of  a  field  the  most  momentous  in  the 
annals  of  history. 


THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA.  221 

The  charge  to  the  conflict  was  given  by  Attila,  who  ordered 
Yalimer,  the  giant  king  of  the  Ostrogoths,  to  seize  on  the 
eminence  occupied  by  the  Visigoths.  And  by  the  rancorous 
struggle  of  these  rival  tribes  of  Goths  was  commenced  the  san- 
guinary battle  of  Chalons.  Not  an  uplifted  arm  was  stayed  by 
the  ties  of  brotherhood ;  not  an  arrow  shunned  its  mark  for 
kindly  memories  of  the  olden  time.  Fierce  and  remorseless  was 
the  contest,  as  is  always  the  warfare  of  kindred  tribes  or  nations. 

For  a  time  the  remainder  of  either  army  paused  motionless  at 
sight  of  such  deadly  strife.  T3ut  not  long  could  the  warriors 
be  restrained,  now  panting  for  the  carnage.  No  longer  could  the 
restless  chargers  be  curbed,  as  they  snuffed  the  battle  afar  off. 
On  came  the  Romans  and  their  Gallic  allies.  On  swept  the  Huns 
and  their  Scythian  horsemen.  A  cloud  of  arrows  darkened  the 
sky  and  fell  pattering  like  a  storm  of  hail.  At  length  the  long 
spears  reached  opposing  spears ;  swords  clashed  against  swords ; 
and  all  were  mingled  in  one  vast  melee  of  carnage. 

In  the  action  we  have  undertaken  to  describe,  there  was  little 
of  military  skill  or  generalship  to  relieve  the  story  of  blood, 
since  the  battle  was  decided  by  the  blind  impetuosity  of  bar- 
barians. The  Huns,  "almost  with  their  first  charge,  pierced 
through  the  ranks  of  the  Alans  and  Sicambres,  and  wheeling  by 
a  rapid  movement  to  the  left,  encountered  the  Visigoths.  While 
the  Romans,  cut  off  from  their  right  wing,  were  left  almost  alone 
in  conflict  with  the  barbarians  of  Attila's  right.  Although  they 
bore  themselves  bravely  that  day,  and  the  gallant  Aetius  was 
seen  riding  the  foremost  wherever  the  strife  was  the  fiercest  or 
danger  the  most  imminent,  yet  night  closed  on  the  scene  while  the 
issue  on  this  side  was  still  undecided.  The  main  interest  there- 
fore, as  well  as  the  decision  of  the  battle,  rested  with  the  opposite 
extreme  of  the  armies,  where  the  Huns  and  the  Goths  side  by 
side  were  toiling  up  that  low  hill,  a  task  made  difficult  by  the 
disadvantage  of  the  ground  and  the  ferocious  obstinacy  of  the 
Visigoths  who  defended  it.  Again  and  again  the  dark  masses  of 
warriors  charged  up  the  ascent ;  again  and  again  they  rolled  back 
as  they  met  the  resistless  tide  from  above.  Yet  still  the  fight 
waxed  fiercer,  and  deeds  of  single  handed  daring  and  brutal 
passion  were  there  enacted  which  the  chroniclers  even  were  loth 


222  THE    HUNS    OF   ATTILA. 

to  tell.  The  riderless  horses,  it  was  said,  of  these  gipsies  of  the 
orient  were  seen  dashing  away  into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy,  and 
there  with  more  than  human  ferocity  fighting  and  tramping 
among  the  dense  columns,  till  at  last  their  dying  shriek  told  the 
tale  of  both  horse  and  rider.  A  Him  and  a  Goth  on  the  hill-side, 
wounded  to  the  death,  crawled  on  to  each  other,  and  with  their 
teeth  in  their  expiring  agonies  tore  each  other's  flesh  till  life 
went  out  in  this  horrid  death  strife.  Such  was  the  animosity  in 
battle  of  man  and  beast  among  these  savage  hordes. 

The  closing  hours  of  the  day  thus  passed,  while  still  the  battle 
raged  and  the  carnage  was  unabated.  The  sun  was  already 
sinking  below  the  western  sky,  and  Attila  was  now  almost  exult- 
ing in  the  victory.  The  old  man  Theodoric,  his  white  hair 
streaming  on  the  wind,  was  riding  heedless  of  danger  before  his 
warriors  and  urging  them  on  to  yet  another  charge,  when  in 
mid-career  he  was  struck  by  a  javelin  from  a  noble  Ostrogoth, 
and  falling  from  his  horse,  was  trampled  beneath  the  feet  of  his 
own  cavalry.  The  youthful  Torismund  from  the  hill-top  beheld 
the  brave  chieftain,  his  father,  borne  to  the  ground;  and  with  a 
wild  cry  of  anguish  he  rushed  down  with  his  followers  on  the 
Huns,  like  an  avalanche  started  from  its  fastness  by  some  wind 
gust  of  the  Alps.  It  was  not  a  charge,  nor  any  species  of  human 
warfare,  but  the  savage  onslaught  of  wild  beasts.  They  fought 
hand  to  hand,  without  mercy  asked  or  quarter  given.  Each  blow 
of  the  battle-ax  felled  some  victim  to  the  ground.  Each  plunge 
of  the  steed  trampled  out  some  luckless  life.  The  hill-side 
became  clogged  arid  hideous  with  its  burden  of  the  slain;  and 
the  stream  below  flowed  sluggish  with  its  swollen  current  of 
blood. 

But  the  boldest  champion  of  that  fearful  struggle  was  the 
leader  Attila,  who  everywhere  conspicuous  on  his  powerful  black 
charger,  seemed  to  court  every  danger  and  to  know  no  fear. 
The  spirit  of  battle  now  possessed  him.  Over  his  brow  there 
darkened  that  hideous  scowl,  and  from  his  eyes  shot  forth  the 
living  fire  of  the  demon  of  war.  Before  his  gaze  the  bravest 
cowered,  and  by  his  resistless  arm  the  foe  were  leveled  like  grain 
before  the  reaper.  He  seemed,  like  Ajax,  to  carry  the  battle  on 
his  own  gigantic  shoulders.  But  all  in  vain  the  hero  fought. 


THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA.  223 

No  will  or  might  of  man  could  resist  the  fateful  doom.  For  the 
decree  had  gone  forth ;  and  by  the  side  of  young  Torismund 
there  was  a  spirit  mightier  than  man's  which  guided  the  closing 
struggle. 

At  length,  as  night  drew  over  the  scene  its  thickening  veil, 
Attila  commanded  the  trumpets  to  sound  a  retreat.  And  soon, 
defeated  and  pursued,  his  weary  warriors  gathered  within  the 
circle  of  their  wagons.  Torismund  and  the  Roman  too  retired 
from  the  field  ;  and  darkness  spread  its  gloomy  pall  above  the 
ghastliest  scene  on  earth. 

The  number  of  killed  in  the  battle  of  Chalons  has  been 
variously  estimated  by  historians  from  162,000  to  300,000, 
according  as  they  have  included  those  left  dead  on  the  field  of 
battle,  or  those  who  died  of  their  wounds,  or  were  otherwise 
missing.  But  it  was  a  sufficient  number  in  any  case  to  show 
that  this  engagement  was  the  most  sanguinary  that  the  world  has 
ever  witnessed.  As  the  chronicler  of  the  time  has  most  quaintly 
remarked,  "  There  was  nothing  to  be  compared  with  it  in  all  the 
annals  of  antiquity ;  and  it  shows  how  the  madness  of  kings 
may  thus  in  a  few  hours  sweep  away  whole  generations  of  men." 

During  the  night  Attila  caused  a  huge  funereal  pile  to  be 
erected  of  the  wooden  saddles  of  his  cavalry,  on  which  he  placed 
all  his  trophies  and  his  captures,  resolved  that  if  the  Romans 
stormed  the  camp  on  the  following  morning  they  should  fail  of 
their  most  coveted  prize,  the  person  of  the  barbarian  king.  But 
for  unknown,  or  at  least  unrecorded  reasons,  Aetius  chose  to 
allow  the  now  desperate  remnant  of  his  enemy  to  retire  without 
further  worrying.  He  may  have  thought  the  wounded  lion  more 
dangerous  than  in  fresh  and  open  fight ;  or  he  may  rather  have 
thought  that  another  such  a  victory  as  he  had  already  won  would 
be  enough  to 'ruin  any  army  or  any  cause.  At  all  events  the 
Huns  soon  broke  their  encampment  and  retired  unmolested  to 
the  dark  forests  of  Hungary.  And  when  two  years  after,  on  the 
death  of  Attila,  his  wide  empire  was  dismembered  and  dissolved, 
Christianity  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  rested  for  a  time 
from  the  perils  that  had  so  closely  beset  it. 

Had  the  "  Scourge  of  God  "  been  victorious  on  the  Catalaunian 
plains,  who  will  estimate  the  influence  it  would  have  exerted  on 


224  THE    HUNS    OF    ATTILA. 

the  destiny  of  tlie  world  ?  From  the  merciless  and  exterminating 
warfare  of  the  Huns,  and  their  inveterate  hatred  of  the  Roman's 
new  religion,  it  is  but  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  Bible  had 
been  buried  beneath  the  chaos  of  barbarian  riot ;  that  none  had 
been  left  to  repeat  the  story  of  the  prophets  and  the  apostles,  or 
to  worship  any  spiritual  God.  On  the  valleys  and  hill-sides  of 
Europe  had  gloarned  the  increasing  darkness  of  heathenism. 
The  soothsayer,  on  every  mountain  top,  had  scraped  the  bones  of 
animals  slain,  to  divine  the  presages  of  futurity ;  and  the  altar, 
reeking  with  the  blood  of  human  victims,  had  sent  its  odious 
incense  up  to  an  angry  Heaven.  The  sun  it  may  be  had  risen 
and  set  on  a  hemisphere,  and  again  had  risen  and  set  on  another, 
but  had  looked  in  all  his  round  only  on  benighted  millions  of 
paganism. 

But  this  dismal  panorama  was  never  to  be  unrolled  on  earth. 
The  arm  of  the  arrogant  Attila  w^as  stayed  in  the  moment  of 
victory ;  and  lo,  along  the  paths  of  pagan  conquest  the  lights  of 
Christianity  blazed  forth.  The  Holy  Book,  the  germ  from 
which  was  to  spring  the  giant  oak  of  civilization,  was  scattered 
on  the  farthest  wilds  of  Europe.  Refinement  sprung  out  on  the 
rude  impress  of  barbarism.  Sage  wisdom  stepped  forth  from 
the  turmoil  of  savage  passion.  Wealth,  at  the  Midas  touch, 
poured  its  full  horn  into  the  lap  of  diligence.  Science  began  to 
dawn  on  the  night  of  ages.  Invention  teemed  with  its  multiform 
enginery.  And  the  elements  bowed  down  at  the  bidding  of  man. 
In>every  dell  where  rises  the  hamlet  of  the  husbandman,  the 
sound  of  the  school-call  gathers  in  the  truant  and  the  student ;  and 
from  every  hill-side  rings  the  echo  of  the  church-going  bell.  On 
every  land  of  the  white  man  there  are  loud  cries  for  liberty  and 
self-government.  While  on  all  the  lands  of  the  dark  races  the 
voice  of  the  preacher  is  heard  amidst  the  jargon  of  idolatry. 
The  heart  of  every  freeman  swells  with  the  proud  boast  of 
civilization's  heritage,  of  the  glories  of  his  father-land,  and  of 
the  endearing  ties  of  home.  And  still  sweeps  on  this  majestic 
tide  of  prosperity,  whose  tiny  source  lies  in  the  far  distant  past, 
when  the  champions  of  progression  and  of  retrogression  stood 
marshaled  on  the  plains  of  Chalons,  and  for  the  first  time  the  brawny 
arm  of  old  might  fell  palsied  before  the  power  of  the  right. 


PREFACE   TO   LECTURE   ON   ANCIENT 
PAINTING.* 


The  old  and  the  new!  Words  that  sum  up  all  there  is  of 
human  achievement  in  the  world.  The  old  are  the  memorials  of 
the  grand  struggle  of  man's  development.  The  new  are  the 
achieved  results  of  all  past  efforts. 

It  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  the  works  and  discoveries  which 
have  marked  the  stages  of  the  world's  progress  ought  to  be  sub- 
jects of  interest  to  every  one.  But  mine  is  not  the  universal 
conclusion.  There  are  many  who  look  upon  the  accomplish- 
ments of  the  past  as  vain  and  wasted  efforts,  because  they  do  not 
equal  the  splendid  results  of  the  present.  The  world  of  observers 
is  clearly  divided  between  those  who  take  interest  in  the  old  and 
the  antiquated,  and  those  who  care  for  none  of  these  things. 

In  the  latter  category  is  perhaps  the  majority  of  the  enlight- 
ened classes  of  our  own  country.  In  America  our  growth  and 
wealth  are  mainly  of  the  present  generation.  A  man's  family 
dates  no  further  back  than  his  father  and  mother,  and  his 
fortune  scarcely  ever  as  far  back  as  that.  Every  thing  in  our 
habits  and  culture  leads  us  to  value  only  what  runs  with  the  cur- 
rent of  our  immediate  and  absorbing  pursuits.  Those  of  our 
people  who  travel  abroad,  where  there  is  only  the  old  to  show, 
are  quite  often  discontented  and  disappointed  tourists.  They 
have  the  restless  longing  to  put  life  into  the  lifeless,  and  novelty 
into  the  antiquated.  If  they  could  have  their  way,  they  would 
u  mighty  soon  clear  out  the  old  rubbish,  and  slick  up  things  gener- 
ally." One  may  hear,  almost  any  day,  in  presence  of  some 

*A  Lecture  written  in  1878,  and  delivered  before  the  Rochester  Art  Society, 
and  on  various  other  occasions. 


226  PREFACE    TO    LECTURE    ON    ANCIENT    PAINTING. 

noted  relic  of  the  past,  sucli  characteristic  remarks  as  these  : 
"How  very,  very  clever!  Now  isn't  it?"  "(Test  magnifique ! 
Mon  Dieu,  c'est  un  ouvrage  splendide  ! "  "  Well  now,  I  can't  see 
anything  there  to  make  a  fuss  about."  This  last  speaker  has 
somehow  gotten  the  name  abroad  of  being  excessively  practical, 
of  reducing  everything  right  down  to  its  present  value  of  merit 
or  utility.  He  is  pointed  out  as  the  "  cui  bono  "  man — the  one 
who  is  forever  asking,  u  What  is  it  good  for  ? " 

Now,  my  friends,  there  is  a  world  of  interest  and  of  attraction 
in  things  that  are  good  for  nothing — in  old  castles  and  ruins,  in 
old  statues  and  paintings,  in  old  histories  and  legends.  It  is  in 
the  endeavor  to  make  this  appear  to  you,  that  I  am  to  speak 
to-night  of  things  long  since  passed  aw^ay — of  the  Rise  and  Fall 
of  an  Empire  of  Art  more  wonderful  and  impressive  than  the 
Empire  of  Arms  which  Gibbon  has  immortalized. 

I  have  had  the  opportunity  and  the  pleasure  to  give  my  disser- 
tation on  the  more  modern  art  of  painting,  in  the  Catalogue  of 
the  Gallery  in  our  City,  which  the  liberality,  aided  by  the  gifted 
taste,  of  one  of  our  foremost  citizens,  has  already  made  the 
richest  collection  of  the  Fine  Arts  in  America.  But  further 
back  than  anything  there  shown — more  ancient  than  the  old, 
grander  than  the  grandeur  of  artistic  Italy — there  is  another 
realm  of  art  dimly  rising  out  of  the  dawn  of  nations  and  of 
languages.  In  this  cloud-region  of  the  classics  I  have  gathered 
this  evening's  subject,  which  is  uAncient  Painting  as  among  the 
Lost  Arts." 


ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE 
LOST    ARTS. 


It  would  seem  as  if  the  world's  progress  had  always  been  made 
by  starts  and  sudden  bounds.  The  Genius  of  cultivation  has 
visited  the  earth  like  the  rare  and  uncertain  returns  of  a  comet. 
After  each  appearance  it  has  departed  again  for  unknown  regions ; 
and  when  or  how  or  where  it  w^ould  return  from  its  roaming,  no 
man  could  tell.  Who  could  have  foretold  or  supposed  that  the 
spirit  of  letters  and  literature  would  have  made  its  first  appear- 
ance on  the  rugged  sea-girt  peninsula  and  islands  of  Greece? 
Then,  five  hundred  years  later,  on  the  classic  hills  of  the  capitol 
that  boasted  to  rule  the  world  ?  And  again,  after  a  dreary 
absence  of  fifteen  hundred  years,  to  have  alighted  on  the  islands 
of  Britain,  afar  in  the  Northern  Seas  ?  Sometime,  away  back  in 
the  ages,  science  has  come  very  near  dawning  upon  the  earth. 
We  have  no  certain  knowledge  when  or  where,  for  we  only  know 
of  the  fact  by  the  fragments  that  have  been  left.  The  races  of 
Eastern  Asia  have,  for  all  historic  time,  known  how  to  calculate 
eclipses,  to  figure  the  revolutions  of  the  planets,  to  divide  and 
measure  the  seasons  and  years,  together  with  many  other  elements 
of  knowledge  implying  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  astronomy. 
They  have  made  gunpowder,  used  the  magnetic  needle,  created 
power  by  steam,  and  printed  with  types,  for  thousands  of  years. 
But  as  they  never  made  any  worthy  use  of  this  information  and 
these  discoveries,  we  must  suppose  them  to  be  the  relics  of  a  lost 
civilization. 

So  also  the  beautiful  arts,  as  painting  and  sculpture,  have  been 
twice  discovered,  and  twice  have  grown  independently,  and  by 
almost  identical  stages,  to  a  remarkable  state  of  perfection.  First 


228  ANCIENT    TAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    AKTS. 

in  the  small  Republics  of  Greece,  about  400  j^ears  before  Christ; 
and  last  in  the  States  of  Italy,  and  1,500  years  after  Christ.  But 
between  the  two  periods  every  trace  of  the  first  era  had  entirely 
disappeared.  Painting  was  for  more  than  a  thousand  years  one 
of  the  Lost  Arts. 

The  causes  that  brought  about  this  total  extinction  of  one  of 
the  brightest  lights  in  human  progress,  will  be  that  of  which  we 
will  discourse  mainly  to-night.  But  first  we  must  tell  the  story 
of  Grecian  Art,  in  as  few  words  as  possible,  and  gather  from  the 
scattered  accounts  given  in  the  old  authors,  as  clear  and  correct 
an  idea  as  we  can  of  the  process,  materials,  and  varieties  of  Gre- 
cian painting. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  all  we  know  of  these  things 
comes  from  the  incidental  allusions  of  ancient  writers,  who  had 
not  the  remotest  thought  that  their  works  would  outlast  the 
beautiful  specimens  they  were  praising,  or  that  the  time  would 
ever  come  when  their  writings  would  be  searched  to  find  out 
what  was  that  mysterious  handicraft  called  Grecian  painting. 
Therefore  it  never  occurred  to  them  to  say,  whether  their  artists 
used  canvas  or  wood,  oil  paints  or  water  colors,  brushes  or  sponge 
or  stylus,  colors  or  sketches  or  outline.  ~No  more  would  a  travel- 
ing correspondent  in  Europe  at  the  present  time  think  to  tell  the 
same  things  about  the  pictures  he  saw.  Why,  every  one  knows 
that  paintings  are  made  on  cloth,  with  brush  and  oil  paints  and 
all  varieties  of  colors.  But  unfortunately  these  are  the  very 
things  that  we  are  most  in  doubt  about,  that  we  cannot  reconcile, 
in  regard  to  ancient  art.  The  more  one  studies,  the  more  is  he 
convinced  that  the  modes  and  materials  of  picture  making  in  the 
olden  times  were  essentially  different  from  those  of  the  present, 
that  the  process  of  Grecian  painting  is  to  this  day  a  Lost  Art. 

It  is  probable  that  for  portable  pictures  the  Greeks  painted 
mainly  on  wood.  In  the  early  stages  of  the  art  the  wooden  tab- 
let was  stained  black  or  white,  a  covering  of  wax  was  spread 
over  the  surface,  the  picture  was  drawn  in  outline  with  a  stylus 
or  pen,  and  then  burnt  in.  Afterwards  colors  mixed  with  wax 
and  oil  were  put  on  with  a  brush  or  sponge,  and  then  burnt  in. 
All  tabular  pictures  on  wood  were  what  was  called  encaustic. 


ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS.  229 

that  is,  the  wood  was  made  in  some  way  by  heat  to  absorb  the 
color  vehicle,  thus  blending  the  colors  and  softening  the  outlines, 
producing  what  from  all  accounts  must  be  conceded  to  be  a 
marvelous  attainment  in  painting.  But  this  art,  whatever  it  may 
have  been,  has  never  been  rediscovered.  There  was  also,  without 
doubt,  a  method  of  painting  on  canvas.  The  colors,  dissolved  in 
water,  were  thickened  with  glue  and  put  on  with  brushes.  When 
the  painting  was  dry  it  was  heavily  varnished  with  a  mixture  of 
warm  Punic  wax  and  oil.  This  was  called  "distemper." 

Mural  paintings  were  in  part,  like  those  of  modern  times,  in 
fresco.  That  is,  water-colors  were  used  on  fresh  walls,  or  on  a 
coating  of  mortar  not  yet  dry,  the  plaster  thus  taking  up  the 
paint  and  rendering  it  very  permanent.  But  as  lime  destroys 
many  colors,  which  consequently  cannot  be  used  in  fresco,  the 
ancients  adopted  another  and  a  peculiar  practice  for  wall  paint- 
ings. As  fast  as  the  picture  was  made  on  any  dry  wall,  with 
water  colors  mixed  with  some  kind  of  gum  or  glue,  it  was 
varnished  with  Punic  wax  and  oil,  heated  by  fire  from  a  chafing 
dish  "usque  ad  sudorem,"  up  to  a  sweat,  when  it  was  rubbed 
with  wax  candles  and  polished  with  white  napkins.  In  this 
way  the  wall  paintings  had  all  the  beauty  of  finish,  the  har- 
mony and  tone  of  amalgamated  outlines,  and  the  splendid 
varieties  of  coloring,  of  the  tabular  pictures ;  and  more  than  all, 
they  were  as  enduring  as  the  walls  themselves.  The  frescoes  of 
Pompeii  are  mostly,  if  not  all,  of  the  kind  we  have  just  des- 
cribed. None  others  would  have  lasted  as  they  have  done, 
preserving  their  freshness  of  color  and  distinctness  of  outline 
through  a  burial  of  nearly  eighteen  hundred  years  in  damp  and 
destructive  earths.  This  method  of  painting  is  also  another 
instance  of  ancient  discoveries  passing  forever  from  the  role  of 
the  Arts. 

With  these  remarks  on  the  materials  and  processes,  we  can 
now  relate  what  were  the  accomplishments  of  ancient  art.  Five 
hundred  years  before  Christ,  painting  was  in  a  very  rude  and 
primitive  state  in  Greece.  According  to  one  author,  it  was  the 
custom  as  well  as  a.  necessity  for  an  artist  to  write  under  his  pro- 
ductions: "This  is  a  bull;"  "This  is  a  horse;"  "This  is  a 


230  ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST   AKTS. 

tree."  Shortly  after  this  time,  Cimon,  the  Cleonian,  is  mentioned 
as  being  able  to  paint  the  sexes  so  that  they  could  be  distin- 
guished, and  faces  looking  side  ways  or  up  or  down,  and  could 
make  folds  in  drapery,  and  show  the  veins  and  muscles.  He  was 
the  first  one  apparently  who  could  dispense  with  the  labels  on 
his  works. 

Then  followed  Paneenus,  the  brother  of  the  great  sculptor 
Phidias,  who  painted  the  battle  of  Marathon,  and  introduced  the 
portraits  of  the  chief  leaders  on  both  sides,  so  well  executed  that 
they  could  be  recognized  by  those  who  had  ever  seen  them 
living. 

Polygnotus  was  the  first  who  painted  writh  more  than  one 
color.  He  used  four,  red,  yellow,  blue  and  black.  He  flourished 
about  450  B.  C. ;  and  his  great  triumph  was  that  he  put  expres- 
sion in  the  face,  and  kindled  up  the  fire  of  life  and  passion  in 
the  human  form.  He  was  the  Prometheus  of  art.  Under  his 
hand  the  bright  smile  of  beauty,  and  the  lovely  form  of  woman, 
veiled  with  flowing  or  transparent  drapery,  first  appeared  on  the 
painter's  tablets. 

We  have  now  reached  the  time  when  the  famous  pictures  of 
antiquity  began  to  be  produced.  We  will  mention  and  describe 
some  of  them,  in  order  to  show  the  high  advance  in  art. 

Apollodorus  painted  Ajax  defying  the  lightning.  On  the 
night  of  the  downfall  of  Troy,  Cassandra,  priestess  and  daughter 
of  Priam,  fled  for  protection  to  the  temple  of  Minerva.  But 
despite  the  sacredness  of  the  place,  she  was  there  exposed  to  the 
brutality  of  Ajax,  the  boldest  and  the  rudest  of  the  Grecian 
chieftains.  To  punish  him  for  this  sacrilege,  Minerva  borrowed 
the  thunderbolts  of  Jupiter,  and  pursued  him  returning  to  his 
home.  His  vessel  was  wrecked  in  one  of  the  wildest  of  storms ; 
but  he  swam  to  a  solitary  rock  in  the  sea,  and  there  in  his  wrath 
defied  all  the  lightnings  of  Heaven.  Minerva  carried  him  off  in 
a  whirlwind.  We  are  told,  and  may  well  believe,  that  this  was  a 
magnificent  painting. 

Zeuxis  painted  the  infant  Hercules  strangling  the  serpents. 
This  valorous  demi-god  was  the  son  of  Jupiter  and  Alcmena. 
Juno,  always  jealous  of  these  side  issues,  sent  two  serpents  to 


ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST   ARTS.  231 

destroy  the  infant  while  he  was  yet  in  his  cradle.  But  nothing 
daunted,  the  child  seized  them  in  both  his  hands,  and  squeezed 
them  to.  death.  The  terror  of  the  mother  and  the  fright  of  the 
attendants,  contrasted  with  the  fearlessness  of  the  infant  prodigy, 
made  this  a  long  noted  painting.  Zeuxis  also  represented 
Jupiter  seated  on  his  Olympian  throne,  and  all  the  other  gods 
doing  him  reverence.  It  was  as  grand  a  subject  as  some  of  the 
gorgeous  scenes  of  Paul  Veronese.  A  Helen,  a  Penelope,  and 
an  Alcmena,  were  some  of  the  minor  works  of  this  same  master. 

There  was  once  a  contest  between  him  and  Parrhasius,  which 
should  produce  the  most  life-like  picture.  The  two  brought 
their  productions — Zeuxis,  a  vine  and  some  clusters  of  grapes,  so 
perfectly  natural  that  when  exposed  the  birds  flew  and  pecked  at 
them  for  genuine  fruit.  Elated  with  his  success,  he  called  to  his 
rival  to  remove  the  curtain  from  before  his  picture.  But  when 
lie  found  that  this  curtain  was  only  a  painting,  he  acknowledged 
himself  fairly  beaten;  for.  he  had  only  deceived  the  birds, 
whereas  Parrhasius  had  deceived  an  experienced  artist. 

Zeuxis  once  painted  a  boy  carrying  a  basket  of  grapes.  The 
birds  also  in  this  instance,  when  they  saw  it,  flew  to  the  basket 
for  the  fruit.  The  painter,  exulting  in  his  triumph,  was  however 
a  good  deal  mortified  when  his  rivals  reminded  him  that  the  boy 
had  not  deceived  the  birds,  else  they  never  would  have  dared  to 
fly  to  his  basket. 

Parrhasius  is  acknowledged  to  have  made  notable  advances  in 
what  was  always  the  great  aim  and  strife  of  the  classic  painters 
and  sculptors,  that  is  to  endow  the  forms  of  their  gods  with  such 
a  perfection  of  human  excellence,  each  in  some  one  direction  of 
development,  as  clearly  to  show  them  superhuman.  He  it  was 
who  could  prescribe  the  limits  of  variation  from  the  ordinary 
type  of  mortals,  that  heros  and  gods  might  take  on  both  in 
picture  and  statue.  His  canon  of  proportions  was  the  law  for 
all  subsequent  artists.  As  one  instance,  it  is  mentioned  that  he 
gave  to  Jupiter  that  peculiar  inclination  of  the  head,  a  certain 
higher  elevation  of  the  neck  behind,  a  bolder  protrusion  of  the 
front,  and  an  increased  perpendicular  of  the.  profile,  so  that  he 
seemed  actually  to  be  giving  the  awful  nod  which  shook  the  uni- 
verse, and  made  gods  and  men  alike  to  tremble. 


232  ANCIENT   PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST   ARTS. 

Parrliasius  painted  an  allegorical  representation  of  the  Athen- 
ian demos,  or  democracy,  which  Pliny  said  expressed  at  the  same 
time  all  the  good  and  bad  qualities  of  this  versatile  people.  One 
might  trace  there,  he  says,  at  once  the  changeable,  the  irritable, 
the  kind,  the  unjust,  the  forgiving,  the  vain  glorious,  the  proud, 
the  humble,  the  fierce,  the  timid.  Just  how  all  this  could  be  got 
into  one  painting,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  conceive.  But  the 
ancients  certainly  had  a  gift  for  doing  these  things.  We  never 
could  have  believed  that  the  whole  story  of  the  Nile  could  be 
told  in  one  piece  of  statuary,  if  we  had  not  actually  seen  it.* 

Timanthes,  one  of  the  most  gifted  masters  of  Greece,  was 
most  noted  as  the  painter  of  the  Sacrifice  of  Iphigeriia.  On  the 
way  to  the  siege  of  Troy,  the  Grecian  fleet  was  detained  at  Aulis 
by  adverse  winds.  At  this  place,  Agamemnon  the  leader  hav- 
ing in  some  way  offended  the  goddess  Diana  (by  killing  her 
favorite  deer,  I  think),  he  was  informed  through  Calchas,  the 
soothsayer,  that  he  could  appease  the  divine  huntress,  and  raise 
the  wind  embargo,  in  no  other  way  than  by  the  sacrifice  of  his 
beloved  daughter  Ipliigenia.  Reluctantly  he  sent  for  her,  and 
she  was  placed  for  the  immolation,  when  by  some  legerdemain 
human  or  divine,  the  girl  was  snatched  away,  and  a  hind  was  left 
in  her  place.  What  wTas  most  remarkable  about  this  painting 
was,  that  after  exhausting  all  the  expressions  of  grief  that  he 
could  invent  011  the  countenances  of  those  present,  the  artist  had 
not  yet  touched  that  of  Agamemnon.  Then,  as  if  to  signify  the 
utter  inadequacy  of  human  power  to  represent  the  father's 
anguish,  he  covered  that  face  with  a  mantle,  and  there  left  it. 
Singularly  enough  this  famous  painting  was  found  copied  on  the 
walls  of  the  House  of  the  Poet  in  Pompeii. 

Timanthes  seems  to  have  been  skilled  in  ingenious  expedients 
to  represent  his  ideas.  In  a  painting  of  ordinary  dimensions, 
where  he  wished  to  show  the  enormous  size  of  a  sleeping  Cyclops, 


*This  colossal  group  is  in  the  Vatican  Museum  at  Rome.  The  giant  figure 
of  the  god  of  the  Nile  is  partly  reclining  and  leaning  against  the  Egyptian 
Sphinx.  Sixteen  cupids  are  climbing  up  on  him,  or  sporting  with  ichneu- 
mons and  crocodiles,  representing  the  sixteen  cubits  of  annual  overflow  of 
the  Nile.  There  are  also  humorous  battles  of  the  pigmies  with  crocodiles  and 
hippopotami.  This  piece  of  sculpture  was  found  in  the  excavations  of  an 
old  temple  of  Minerva  near  the  Church  of  Santa  Maria  in  Rome,  in  A.D.  1518. 


ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST   ARTS.  233 

lie  introduces  a  group  of  satyrs  trying  to  measure  Iris  thumb  with 
a  common  walking  staff. 

We  come  now  to  Apelles,  a  painter  in  the  age  of  Alexander 
the  Great  (B.  C.  330),  and  exalted  by  the  united  testimony  of  all 
antiquity  to  the  highest  rank  in  his  profession.  One  of  the  most 
celebrated  of  his  paintings  was  the  Venus  Anadyomene — Yenus 
rising  from  the  waves — born  from  the  foam  of  the  sea.  It  was 
in  after  ages  carried  to  Rome,  and  still  existed  in  the  time  of 
Nero.  Another  famous  painting  represented  Alexander  grasping 
a  thunderbolt.  And  Pliny  says  that  the  fingers  which  held  the 
bolt,  as  well  as  the  bolt  itself,  seemed  to  project  from  the  canvas. 
This  picture  sold  in  its  time,  and  in  that  age  of  dear  money,  for 
what  represented  over  $200,000.  In  a  grand  contest  for  the 
prize  in  paintings  of  horses,  Apelles,  seeing  that  favoritism  was 
going  to  rule  against  him,  demanded  that  all  the  paintings  should 
be  exhibited  before  a  troop  of  live  horses.  And  these  animals, 
disregarding  the  others,  neighed  as  they  passed  before  his  own 
picture  of  their  kind.  This  impartial  judgment  could  not  be 
got  over. 

These  things  do  seem  almost  incredible,  and  I  would  not 
wonder  if  there  should  be  some  skeptics  here.  But  I  think  that 
these  and  similar  stories  are  related  too  often  and  too  seriously  in 
the  old  authors  for  that  there  should  not  be  some  grains  of  truth 
in  them. 

Cotemporary  with  Apelles  was  Protogenes,  also  famous  in  the 
art.  He  spent  seven  years  in  finishing  a  great  national  painting, 
a  hunting  scene,  which  was  to  commemorate  alike  the  founder 
arid  the  founding  of  his  native  City  of  Rhodes.  He  had  oc- 
casion to  represent  in  the  picture  a  dog  panting,  and  the  froth 
running  from  his  mouth.  But  he  never  could  paint,  with  any 
satisfaction  to  himself,  the  foam  at  the  mouth.  Finally  out  of 
all  patience,  he  threw  his  sponge  at  the  dog's  head,  and  then 
found  to  his  surprise,  that  he  had  by  this  act  painted  exactly 
what  he  wanted.  Whatever  a  sponge  has  to  do  with  painting,  is 
one  of  those  inexplicable  things  that  we  are  continually  meeting 
in  the  stories  that  have  come  down  to  us  descriptive  of  ancient 
art.  There  is  another  mystery  connected  with  this  same  paint- 


234  ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST   ARTS. 

ing.  Pliny  says  that  Protogenes  painted  this  picture  with  four 
layers  of  colors,  in  such  a  way  that,  when  one  was  destroyed  by 
the  hand  of  time,  the  layer  underneath  would  reproduce  the 
piece  in  all  its  original  freshness  and  beauty.  This  is  entirely 
incomprehensible  to  us,  and  we  must  revert  again  to  our  theory 
of  Lost  Arts. 

It  was  between  Protogenes  and  Apelles  that  occurred  that  re- 
markable trial  of  skill  in  sketching,  which  gives  us  some  ideas  of 
Grecian  Art  not  otherwise  obtainable.  Apelles,  who  was  an 
Athenian,  having  heard  much  of  Protogenes  who  lived  on  the 
island  of  Rhodes,  bethought  him  at  one  time  to  make  the  voyage, 
and  thus  to  form  his  rival's  acquaintance.  Arriving,  he  called  at 
the  house  of  Protogenes,  and  learned  that  he  was  absent.  Being 
shown  into  the  studio,  and  finding  a  canvas  and  brushes  placed 
as  if  for  work,  he  took  the  liberty  to  draw  a  figure  thereon,  and 
then  left.  Protogenes  returning  saw  the  sketch,  and  at  once  said 
that  no  one  but  Apelles  could  have  done  that.  But  he  immedi- 
ately took  the  brush  and  drew  a  figure  over  the  first,  correcting 
or  bettering  some  of  the  outlines.  He  then  directed  his  house- 
keeper that,  if  the  stranger  came  back,  she  was  to  show  him 
again  into  the  studio.  It  happened  as  he  foresaw,  and  Apelles 
seeing  himself  outdone  in  the  second  trial,  seized  the  brush  and 
over  all  drew  a  third  figure,  still  more  perfect  than  either,  and 
cutting  both.  Protogenes  now  confessed  himself  vanquished. 
He  ran  to  the  harbor,  sought  out  his  rival,  and  the  two  became 
thereafter  the  warmest  of  friends.  Now,  that  this  trial  brought 
out  some  extraordinary  results,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  the 
canvas  containing  it  became  highly  prized,  and  at  a  later  day  was 
taken  to  Rome  and  preserved  in  the  Palace  of  the  Caesars.  Art 
writers,  both  ancient  and  modern,  have  had  much  to  say  about  it. 
Michael  Angelo  thought  without  doubt  that  the  figures  were 
outlines  of  the  human  form,  and  that  they  embodied  some  of 
those  exquisite  perfections  which  make  the  Grecian  statues, 
which  have  been  dug  out  of  Italian  ruins  in  the  last  few  cen- 
turies, objects  of  study  and  wonder  to  all  who  see  them. 

To  illustrate  this  fact,  and  to  show  wherein  consists  that  excel- 
lence, allow  me  to  relate  an  incident  connected  with  our  own 
most  distinguished  countryman  and  artist,  Benjamin  West. 


ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS.  235 

A  little  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago  this  young  painter 
went  to  Home  for  the  purpose  of  perfecting  himself  in  his  art. 
There  was  great  curiosity  among  the  acquaintances  he  had  made 
on  his  arrival,  to  see  what  would 'be  the  first  impressions  of  the 
qnaker  artist  on  beholding  the  renowned  statues  of  the  Yatican. 
So  there  was  quite  a  company  who  attended  him  on  his  first  visit 
to  that  museum.  When  brought  before  the  Apollo  Belvidere, 
he  at  once  exclaimed,  "  My  God !  how  like  it  is  to  a  young 
Mohawk  warrior."  Well,  the  Roman  friends  were  a  good  deal 
astonished  to  hear  their  most  famous  statue  compared  to  an 
Indian  savage.  But  there  was  a  truth  and  a  praise  there  which 
they  little  realized,  as  a  few  words  of  explanation  will  show. 

For  unknown  ages  previous  to  their  contact  with  civilization, 
the  Indian  tribes  of  North  America  had  been  almost  constantly 
in  active  hostilities  with  each  other.  Every  man's  life  was  every 
day  in  peril,  and  he  only  who  was  the  swiftest  of  foot,  the 
quickest  of  sight,  and  the  most  enduring  on  the  war  path,  stood 
any  chance  of  arriving  at  man's  estate,  and  transmitting  his 
powers  and  prowess  to  a  line  of  descendants.  It  was  preemi- 
nently the  survival  of  the  fittest.  And  we  may  rest  assured  that 
all  that  nature  could  do  to  endow  that  Mohawk  warrior  with 
fleetness,  acuteness,  and  endurance,  with  the  exact  muscles,  and 
sinews,  and  weight,  and  length  of  limbs,  and  prominence  of  sense 
organs,  necessary  to  the  highest  display  of  agility,  of  quickness, 
and  of  vital  force,  had  been  given  him.  What  praise  then  could 
be  greater  for  the  nameless  sculptor  of  this  relic  of  Grecian  art, 
found  four  hundred  years  ago  in  the  ruins  of  Antium,  than  to 
say  that  he  had  formed  the  god  of  the  bow,  the  god  of  all  high 
feats  and  adventure,  the  god  that  was  the  embodiment  of  manly 
beauty,  courage,  sagacity,  and  strength,  on  the  same  model  that 
nature  was  using  for  her  hero  and  Apollo  in  the  forests  by  the 
Great  Lakes? 

I  have  now  placed  before  you,  in  brief  outline,  a  few  of  the 
many  noted  examples  of  ancient  painting,  which  the  classic 
authors  are  unanimous  in  praising  to  the  full  extent  of  the 
powers  of  language.  But  they  do  not  praise  them  more  than  at 
the  same  time  they  extol  the  beauty  and  the  excellence  of  the 


236  ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS. 

statiies  which  adorned  their  temples  and  public  halls.  They  all 
unite  in  saying  that  the  arts  of  painting  and  sculpture  were 
equally  advanced.  They  had  no  more  occasion  or  motive  to 
deceive  in  ,the  one  case  than  in  the  other.  For  they  never  could 
have  imagined  that  the  time  would  come  when  sculpture  would 
be  represented  by  some  of  their  most  beautiful  and  wonderful 
specimens,  while  the  sister  art  of  painting  would  be  represented 
by  absolutely  nothing.  Therefore  if  we  find  that  they  told  the 
truth  in  one  case,  we  are  bound  to  believe  that  they  did  so  in  the 
other. 

Now  what  are  the  facts  in  regard  to  Greek  sculpture  ?  Leaving 
out  of  the  question  all  the  rest  of  Greece,  we  will  only  take 
notice  of  the  small  island  of  Rhodes,  some  forty  miles  long  by 
fifteen  wide.  When  the  Romans  took  it,  in  the  year  42  before 
Christ,  they  carried  away  3,000  statues,  among  which,  mere 
chance  preservations  we  must  suppose,  were  those  remarkable 
groups  of  the  Laocoon  and  the  Farnese  Bull.  If  there  were 
many  of  them  like  these,  what  a  proof  of  the  amazing  richness 
of  art  in  the  ancient  times !  There  is  not,  in  all  the  realm  of 
sculpture,  a  more  elaborate  and  splendid  work,  than  that  called 
the  Farnese  Bull,  found  among  the  ruins  in  the  Baths  of  Cari- 
calla  at  Rome,  and  now  in  the  Museum  of  Naples.  It  is  carved 
out  of  one  solid  block  of  the  purest  white  marble,  and  contains 
four  life-size  figures,  besides  the  wild  animal  to  the  horns  of 
which  Dirce  is  attached  and  dragged  by  her  long  hair.  It  repre- 
sents the  pitiless  vengeance  that  one  woman  can  take  upon  another 
for  wrongs  endured.  Antiope,  the  mother  of  the  two  youths 
who  are  holding  the  plunging  bull,  had  been  persecuted,  and  for 
a  long  time  confined  by  her  relatives,  because  her  early  affections 
had  not  chanced  to  run  in  the  line  of  family  interest.  But  now, 
by  a  turn  of  fortune,  she  has  in  her  power  the  chief  instigator  of 
her  persecutions;  and  she  stands  there  as  cold  as  the  marble,  to 
witness  the  most  atrocious  vengeance  that  ever  yet  was  executed. 

The  Laocoon,  also  according  to  the  testimony  of  Pliny,  from 
one  block  of  marble,  was  found  in  1506,  beneath  a  vineyard  in 
the  ruins  of  the  Baths  of  Titus,  and  is  now  in  the  Vatican  col- 
lection. Laocoon,  the  priest  of  Neptune,  had  strongly  urged  the 


ANCIENT   PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS.  237 

Trojans  not  to  admit  into  their  city  the  huge  wooden  horse  which 
the  Greeks  had  offered  them  on  the  eve  of  their  pretended  de- 
parture. And  for  tin's,  Minerva  is  fabled  to  have  sent  two 
enormous  serpents  from  the  sea,  which  folded  and  crushed  in 
their  horrible  embrace  the  priest  and  his  two  sons.  For  agonized 
expressions,  as  well  as  anatomical  contortions,  this  is  justly  con- 
sidered the  great  masterpiece  of  sculpture.  These  two  examples, 
if  there  had  been  no  others  found  in  the  ruins  of  Rome,  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  establish  the  fact  of  Grecian  superiority 
in  the  line  of  statuary,  over  all  nations  and  times,  ancient  or 
modern. 

The  art  of  painting  involves  the  same  principles,  the  same 
knowledge  of  form  and  proportions,  and  the  same  skilled  hand 
and  eye,  that  sculpture  does.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  the 
successful  cultivation  of  the  one,  without  that  of  the  other.  For 
these  reasons  I  think  we  cannot  avoid  the  conclusion  that  the 
painter's  art  has  never  since,  not  even  in  the  palmiest  days  of  art 
in  Italy,  arrived  at  such  a  state  of  perfection  as  in  the  flourishing 
periods  of  ancient  Greece. 

And  for  this  superiority  there  was  necessary  exactly  the  con- 
dition of  things  which  we  find  in  Grecian  culture  and  civilization. 
Here  was  a  nation  of  hero  worshipers,  of  refined  idolators, 
whose  religion  was  the  adoration  of  the  beautiful,  whose  highest 
aspirations  were  to  represent  their  divinities  under  the  most  per- 
fect of  human  forms.  Was  it  the  chaste  Diana,  the  goddess  of 
hunting  ?  Then  her  resemblance  must  be  that  which,  not  one 
life,  but  generations  of  huntresses  would  develop.  Was  it  a 
Hercules  to  be  represented  ?  His  type  can  by  no  means  be  made 
up  from  ordinary  wrestlers  and  pugilists.  It  must  be  the  out- 
come of  a  line  of  warrior  athletes,  whose  very  existence  for 
generations  may  have  depended  on  their  power  to  carry  the 
weightiest  armor  and  to  wield  the  heaviest  battle-ax.  It  will 
never  answer  for  a  criticism,  to  say  we  never  saw  such  length  and 
slenderness  of  limbs,  together  with  such  fullness  of  the  vital 
organs,  as  the  old  artists  have  given  to  their  Apollos  and  Dianas ; 
nor  such  swollen  and  knotted  muscles  as  seem  almost  to  disfigure 
the  Farnese  Hercules.  We  may  be  sure  that  their  models  have 


238  ANCIENT   PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS. 

existed,  or  might  exist  under  favoring  circumstances.  Benjamin 
West  found  the  Apollo  in  the  Mohawk  warrior  of  a  hundred 
years  ago.  The  fabled  Amazons  might  have  had  a  Diana  for  their 
Queen.  And  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  brawny  Saxons,  in  their 
early  fighting  days,  have  had  a  veritable  Hercules  for  a  King. 
These  then  are  the  lines  in  which  ancient  delineators  were  im- 
measurably superior  to  the  modern.  And  in  so  far  their  art  and 
genius  have  passed  away. 

Before  closing  the  account  of  ancient  art  attainments,  I  should 
perhaps  say  a  few  more  words  in  regard  to  the  wall  paintings 
that  have  been  uncovered,  within  the  past  120  years,  in  Pompeii. 
Previous  to  the  year  79  of  our  era,  when  it  was  suddenly  buried 
by  a  shower  of  ashes  and  gravel  from  the  first  recorded  eruption 
of  Vesuvius,  Pompeii  was  merely  a  small  provincial  city,  with 
never  more  than  30,000  inhabitants.  But  from  its  delightful 
situation,  near  the  Bay  of  Naples,  and  on  the  fertile  slopes  of  the 
extinct  volcano,  it  had  come  to  be  somewhat  of  a  resort  for 
Romans  of  moderate  means.  There  was  in  it  however  nothing 
of  special  elegance  or  pretension,  its  best  house  belonging  to  one 
of  its  wine  merchants ;  and  it  was  as  far  from  being  an  art  center 
as  probably  Sorento  is  at  the  present  day.  That  it  should  have 
contained  any  specimens  of  the  fine  arts,  is  a  wonder.  That  it 
did  have  so  many  and  such  remarkable  ones,  is  a  most  striking 
evidence  of  the  inseparable  connection  of  the  arts  with  all  the 
tastes  and  necessities  of  ancient  every-day  life.  The  houses  of 
Pompeii  were  in  reality  profusely  adorned  by  decorative  artists 
and  painters  imported  from  Greece.  There  was  an  almost  infi- 
nite variety  of  subjects  and  scenes  illustrated  on  their  walls, 
from  flowers  and  fruits  to  dancing  genii  and  floating  nymphs, 
from  representations  of  homely  and  comic  life  to  heroic  legends 
and  the  myths  of  the  gods.  In  fact  we  have  here  a  most  charm- 
ing and  complete  illustrated  journal  of  the  first  century  of  the 
Christian  era. 

Many  of  the  prominent  pictures,  we  know,  were  copies  of 
more  ancient  ones  ;  and  it  is  probable  that  none  of  them  evince 
a  higher  grade  of  talent  than  that  of  the  copyist.  There  is  really 
no  good  reason  to  suppose  that  the  decorations  of  this  retired 


ANCIENT   PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS.  239 

city  compared  more  favorably  with  original  works  of  the  great 
masters  of  Greece,  than  the  frescoes  of  the  hotels  and  villas  of 
Nice  compare  with  the  Stanzas  of  Raphael  in  the  Vatican  or 
the  ceilings  of  the  Sixtlne  Chapel.  Yet  there  are  in  these  frag- 
ments, as  it  were,  of  another  world  of  art,  elements  of  beauty 
and  form  and  color  that  have  made  and  always  will  make  them 
the  study  and  admiration  and  wonder  of  all  lovers  of  the  beauti- 
ful. Another  thought.  Here  are  wall-paintings  that  have  pre- 
served their  fresh  and  lively  colors  for  two  thousand  years  ;  while 
those  of  the  old  Italian  masters  of  250  years  ago  have  had  to  be 
retouched  and  repainted  to  keep  them  from  becoming  unrecog- 
nizable. Could  there  be  a  more  convincing  proof  that,  not  only 
the  modes  and  the  skill,  but  the  color  materials,  the  pigments,  of 
the  ancient  painters  are  among  the  Lost  Arts  ? 

Rome  succeeded  Greece  as  the  depository,  but  never  as  the 
creator  of  the  wealth  of  the  fine  arts.  Rome  conquered  the 
whole  known  world,  and  gathered  in  the  spoils  of  conquest  to 
beautify  or  encumber  the  masses  of  bricks  and  stones  which 
made  her  capitol.  The  quantity  of  art  material  that  was  brought 
over  from  the  neighboring  peninsula  of  Greece  was  perfectly 
overwhelming.  The  despoiling  commenced  in  the  time  of  Julius 
Csesar,  was  continued  under  Augustus,  Caligula,  Nero,  in  fact  as 
long  as  there  was  anything  to  carry  off. 

If  now  we  seek  the  causes  which  destroyed  or  buried  the  art 
treasures  of  antiquity,  and  which  finally  wiped  out  from  the  face 
of  the  earth  all  knowledge  of  practical  art,  we  come  directly 
upon  the  causes  which  made  of  Rome  a  heap  of  ruins,  which  in  a 
thousand  years  reduced  a  proud  city  of  two  million  souls  to  a 
miserable  huddle  of  twenty  thousand,  and  which  buried  alike  the 
trophies  and  the  aspirations  of  a  mighty  civilization. 

In  the  first  rank  of  destructive  elements  we  must  enumerate 
that  of  fire.  And,  as  the  conflagration  most  disastrous  to  art,  we 
may  mention  that  of  the  year  of  our  Lord  64.  Nero,  desiring 
to  clear  off  a  space  on  the  Palatine  Hill  for  a  golden  palace  that  he 
had  in  his  mind,  set  fire  to  the  interiors  of  the  marble  structures 
which  Augustus  had  reared  there.  But  the  work  of  the  incen- 
diary did  not  stop  where  he  intended  it  should.  It  soon  passed 


240  ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG   THE    LOST    ARTS. 

all  control,  and  raged  for  nine  days.  When  it  was  over,  the 
greater  part  of  Rome  was  in  ashes ;  and  it  is  probable  that  half 
the  art  specimens  brought  from  Greece  were  destroyed  in  those 
few  fatal  days. 

Another  cause,  which  has  served  perhaps  more  than  all  others 
to  bury  the  marble  and  stone  works  of  Rome,  is  the  inundations 
of  the  Tiber.  This  is  one  of  the  rivers  that  come  directly  down 
from  the  Appenines,  and  like  all  mountain  streams  is  peculiarly 
liable  to  overflow.  Repeatedly  has  the  Tiber  spread  itself 
through  all  the  lower  parts  of  the  city,  and  swept  or  dissolved 
into  ruins  every  building  that  was  not  on  a  hill  or  the  sides  of  a 
hill.  All  the  valleys,  and  the  bed  of  the  river  itself,  have  been 
filled  up  and  actually  raised  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet.  Visitors 
to  day  go  down  into  an  excavation  of  at  least  twenty-five  feet  to 
get  to  the  old  floor  of  the  Forum  and  the  paved  streets  of 
ancient  days. 

The  famous  hills  of  Rome  have  been  raised  to  nearly  the  same 
extent  by  successive  layers  of  ruins,  arising  in  this  case  from 
alternations  of  periods  of  destruction  and  decay,  writh  those  of 
activity  and  reconstruction.  On  the  Palatine,  one  descends  first 
into  the  marble  palaces  of  the  Caesars,  then  underneath  to  the 
plainer  brick  structures  of  the  ancient  Republic,  and  finally  down 
to  the  tufa-stone  foundations  of  the  original  "  Roma  Qnadrata." 

The  great  and  wealthy  city  and  center  of  Christian  civilization 
offered  tempting  rewards  to  the  hungry  and  rude  barbarians  who 
swarmed  on  the  northern  confines  of  the  Empire  in  the  early 
centuries.  In  the  year  410  of  our  era  the  Goths,  under  Alaric, 
besieged  and  took  possession  of  the  city,  pillaging  it  for  five 
days.  Forty-five  years  later,  the  Yandals,  under  Genseric,  plun- 
dered and  ravaged  it  for  fifteen  days.  Again  in  546,  the  Goths, 
under  Totila,  starved  the  city  into  surrender,  and  then  enforced 
the  extremest  extortions.  It  is  said  that  in  some  of  these  sieges, 
the  broken  arms  and  limbs  of  statues  were  hurled  at  the  enemy 
from  the  walls  like  any  other  rubbish. 

But  worse  than  all  the  barbarians,  as  the  iconoclasts  of  art, 
were  the  Christians  themselves.  When  from  poor  and  persecuted 
hiders  in  caves  and  catacombs,  they  could  at  length  proclaim 


ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS.  241 

themselves  masters,  what  could  be  more  natural  than  that  they 
should  hold  the  objects  of  desire  or  worship  that  belonged  to 
their  enemies,  or  pertained  to  the  old  idolatry,  in  hate  and  abomi- 
nation ?  No  decree  of  a  time-serving  or  Christian  Emperor  was 
more  welcome  to  a  fanatic  populace,  than  one  giving  license  to 
destroy  the  art  remains  of  heathenism.  We  read  that  the  early 
converts  used  to  put  ropes  around  the  necks  of  marble  Apollos 
and  Yenuses,  and  try  them  publicly  as  criminals.  Of  course 
they  found  them  guilty,  and  then  they  pounded  them  to  dust. 
Eusebius  informs  us  that  in  the  early  and  rapid  spread  of  Christ- 
ianity, whole  towns  arose  and  destroyed  the  temples  in  which 
they  had  just  worshiped.  The  air  echoed  with  the  noise  of 
hammers,  the  crashing  of  pediments,  the  breaking  of  pillars,  and 
the  shouts  of  a  maddened  and  frenzied  populace.  The  finest 
works  of  Phidias  and  Praxiteles,  and  all  that  were  left  of  Polyg- 
notus,  Apelles,  and  Zeuxis  were  demolished  or  burned,  and  their 
ashes  were  danced  upon  with  fanatic  exultation.  So  great  had 
been  the  destruction  that  when,  in  the  year  400,  Arcadius  and 
Honorius  issued  a  fresh  edict  to  go  on  destroying,  they  added,  as 
well  they  might,  "  if  any  pictures  or  statues  are  still  left." 

After  foreign  enemies  had  destroyed  or  carried  off  everything 
that  could  any  longer  attract  them,  the  Romans  themselves,  as  if 
struck  with  the  madness  of  destroying  demons,  began  fighting 
and  ravaging  in  civil  wars  and  domestic  contentions.  For  five 
hundred  years  in  the  midst  of  the  dark  ages,  Rome  was  perpet- 
ually torn  and  wasted  by  the  sanguinary  quarrels  of  the  nobles 
and  the  people,  the  Guelphs  and  Ghibbelines,  and  the  factions  of 
the  Colonna  and  Ursini  families.  From  one  time  to  another,  all 
the  massive  structures  of  the  old  city  have  been  transformed  into 
fortifications — the  Coliseum,  the  Pantheon,  the  mausoleums  of 
Hadrian  and  of  Augustus,  and  the  enormous  Baths;  while 
towers  and  strongholds  were  erected  in  every  part,  to  serve  the 
purpose  of  robber  chieftains  or  lawless  factions.  The  venerable 
ruins  were  recklessly  plundered  of  all  that  could  be  used  in 
masonry  or  fortification,  while  the  marble  of  columns  and  statues 
and  costly  ornaments  were  burned  in  lime-kilns  to  supply  the 
materials  for  mortar. 


242  ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS. 

Then  famine  and  pestilence  took  hold  on  the  doomed  city,  and 
the  malaria  of  the  marshes,  from  neglect  of  drainage,  crept  up 
from  the  low  grounds,  and  seized  the  stragglers  of  the  ever  con- 
tracting populace,  until  from  the  proud  and  teeming  capitol  of  a 
world,  it  came  at  last  to  contain  only  the  miserable  remnant  of 
twenty  thousand  inhabitants.  In  this  fact  alone  is  largely 
explained  the  vast  and  wonderful  ruins  of  Rome.  For  ages 
there  were  not  inhabitants  enough  to  occupy  the  hundredth  part 
of  the  buildings  that  had  been  reared.  Of  course  they  fell  into 
decay.  The  falling  roofs  and  walls  of  the  upper  half  buried 
and  preserved  the  lower.  The  work  of  time  and  decay  leveled 
the  surface  and  disintegrated  the  soft  materials,  till  eventually 
the  needy  descendants  of  Roman  conquerors  planted  their  vine- 
yards or  herded  their  cattle  over  the  ruins  of  Forums  and  Palaces. 

Like  many  another  pilgrim  to  the  great  cemetery  of  a  past 
civilization,  I  have  followed  the  tourist's  track  to  the  ruins  of 
Rome.  I  have  wandered  among  the  gloomy  and  wasting  remains 
of  a  power  and  a  culture  that  flourished  nineteen  centuries 
before.  I  have  gone  down  into  the  excavations,  and  seen  marble 
relics  disentombed  from  beneath  thirty  feet  of  the  accumulated 
debris  of  ages.  I  have  groped  my  way  under  ground  through 
dark  and  dripping  passages  that  were  once  the  gay  and  airy  halls 
of  a  palace.  But  I  must  confess  to  you  that  I  have  failed  to  be 
impressed  as  I  ought  with  the  mighty  changes,  the  awful  de- 
struction which  these  ruins  would  indicate.  They  are  so  encom- 
passed and  crowded  upon  by  modern  improvements,  so  carefully 
repaired  and  abutted  by  recent  masonry,  so  evidently  kept  for 
showT,  that  my  imagination  could  not  get  beyond  the  eager  lives 
and  the  begging  hands  that  are  ever  reaching  down  from  the 
New  Rome  into  the  Old  Rome.  I  do  not  say  this  to  find  fault. 
It  is  commendable  to  preserve,  by  all  means  and  at  any  sacrifice, 
treasures  as  unique  as  these.  But  it  is  none  the  less  true  that 
the  modern  surroundings  and  appliances,  and  papal  tablets,  and 
the  devices  of  the  artful  showmen,  destroy  the  illusion  of 
antiquity  and  the  impression  of  overwhelming  vicissitudes. 

To  get  away  from  this  influence,  I  have  climbed  the  Capitol 
Hill,  and  stood  on  the  brow  of  the  lonely  Tarpeian  ledge,  the 


ANCIENT    PAINTING    AS    AMONG    THE    LOST    ARTS.  243 

only  spot  that  has  remained  unchanged  through  all  the  mutations 
of  Roman  fortune.  And  I  have  there  endeavored  to  transport 
myself  five  hundred  years  into  the  past,  to  see  before  me  only 
the  wide  and  mournful  scene  of  desolation  which  was  there  un- 
folded in  the  gloomiest  hour  of  the  night  of  ages.  On  all  the 
seven  hills,  that  once  sustained  the  seat  of  an  empire  that 
seemed  as  eternal  as  their  foundations,  there  could  then  be  seen 
only  the  specters  of  ruin,  grim  and  unrelieved.  Half  buried  in 
wild  and  brambly  commons,  were  the  massive  piles  of  the  Baths 
of  Diocletian,  of  Titus,  and  of  Caricalla,  the  dismantled  Colis- 
seum,  the  triumphal  arches,  the  dilapidated  columns  of  some 
heathen  temples,  and  innumerable  mounds  and  monuments  that 
had  long  ceased  to  commemorate  anything.  Over  the  Palatine 
Hill,  where  were  buried  one  under  the  other,  the  remains  of 
three  periods  of  national  architecture,  were  then  only  vineyards 
and  gardens.  On  the  valley  within  the  amphitheater  of  the 
hills,  enclosures  for  swine  and  buffaloes  occupied  the  ground 
beneath  which,  deeply  buried,  were  the  pavements  of  the  Yia 
Sacra  and  the  floors  of  the  Comitium  of  the  Roman  people,  where 
their  Scipios  had  brought  the  trophies  and  received  the  appella- 
tions of  conquered  continents.  Such  was  the  desolate  grave  from 
which  the  new  culture  was  soon  to  arise — such  the  mournful 
spectacle  which  preceded  the  Renaissance  of  Art. 


SKETCHES   OF   THE   "OLD  MASTERS"    IN 
PAINTING.* 


There  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  the  art  of  painting  was 
carried  to  a  high  degree  of  perfection  by  the  ancient  Greeks. 
We  cannot  judge  of  this  by  any  specimen  paintings  that  have 
been  preserved,  for  these  are  things  that  do  not  endure.  But  the 
ancient  writers  say  that  Grecian  art  was  equally  advanced  in 
painting  and  sculpture ;  and  in  regard  to  the  latter  there  have 
been  found  in  late  years,  buried  in  the  debris  of  cities  and  villas, 
statues  and  groups  in  marble  that  would  substantiate  the  most 
extravagant  claims.  We  are  authorized  to  conclude  therefore 
that  their  claims  in  regard  to  painting  were  not  exaggerated. 

In  further  corroboration  there  is  the  remarkable,  almost  mirac- 
ulous, preservation  of  the  frescoes  of  Pompeii.  This  was  a 
small  provincial  town  of  Italy,  a  place  little  likely  to  have  even 
a  fair  sample  of  ancient  art ;  yet  there  have  been  opened  up  in 
this  buried  city  frescoes  and  wall  paintings  that  have  been  studies 
and  models  for  painters  from  the  day  they  were  discovered. 

But  with  the  incursions  of  the  northern  barbarians  and  the 
closing  in  of  the  dark  ages,  all  art  culture  absolutely  died  out, 
and  until  about  the  year  1300  painting  was  one  of  the  lost  arts. 
It  had  to  be  re-discovered  and  worked  up  again  to  perfection  by 
slow  and  toilsome  labors,  as  much  as  if  it  had  never  existed.  We 
can  best  point  out  this  growth  by  sketching,  though  ever  so 
briefly,  the  lives  and  work  of  those  who  have  been  laborers  in 
this  field  ;  and  first  we  must  mention, 

Giotto. — GIOTTO  DI  BORDONE  was  born  near  Florence  in  1276. 
His  occupation  as  a  boy  was  to  tend  sheep.  When  ten  years  old 

*  Written  in  1875  for  the  Catalogue  of  Powers  Art  Gallery,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 


246  SKETCHES    OF    THE    OLD    MASTERS. 

lie  was  noticed  sketching  one  of  his  flock  on  a  stone.  His  genius 
was  appreciated,  and  kind  patrons  gave  him  instruction  in  all  that 
was  then  known  of  art.  It  was  not  long  before  he  led  all  his 
instructors.  These  were  the  times  when  they  made  those  rigid 
expressionless  Christs  and  Virgins  and  Saints,  with  their  heads 
surrounded  by  hoops,  arid  painted  on  wood,  usually  the  inside  of 
case  doors,  which  priests  threw  open  on  occasions  of  great  devo- 
tional exercises.  Giotto  made  the  first  faces  that  had  life  in  them 
—the  first  Christ  on  the  cross  that  looked  at  all  like  a  suffering 
Saviour.  He  lived  in  the  time  of  the  poet  Dante,  and  was  his 
friend  and  companion.  Each  one  has  in  his  own  way  made  the 
portrait  of  the  other ;  and  both  pictures  are  of  the  kind  that  are 
immortal.  When  he  died  in  Florence,  in  1336,  and  was  buried 
with  great  pomp  in  the  Cathedral,  it  was  recognized  that  the  poor 
shepherd  boy  had  become  a  power  and  a  leader  among  men.  He 
was  without  question  the  father  of  painting  and  of  the  mosaic 
art.  Some  of  the  oldest  frescoes  in  the  Cainpo  Santo  of  Pisa 
are  by  his  hand.  The  mosaic  of  the  Disciples  in  the  storm, 
called  "  Navicella,"  in  the  portico  of  St.  Peter's,  is  his.  His 
works  were  very  numerous  and  his  pupils  were  very  many ;  so 
that  his  influence  was  carried  down  for  many  generations.  But 
the  next  great  advance  in  painting  was  made  more  than  a  hun- 
dred years  later  and  in  the  time  of 

Leonardo  da  Vinci  ( Vin-che). — He  was  born  at  the  castle 
of  the  Yinci,  near  Florence,  in  1452 ;  was  the  natural  son  of 
Pietro  da  Yinci,  but  brought  up  with  all  the  advantages  of  wealth 
and  of  the  best  instruction.  He  had  a  wonderful  and  versatile 
genius — was  a  poet,  musician,  mathematician,  mechanic,  sculptor 
and  painter.  As  an  artist,  he  introduced  the  element  of  the 
ideal  into  painting.  Grandeur  of  design,  harmony  of  expression, 
united  with  the  minutest  finish — the  poetry  of  the  art — may  be 
said  to  have  originated  with  Leonardo.  He  is  best  known  by  his 
fresco  paintings ;  and  the  best  of  these  is  "  The  Last  Supper," 
in  the  convent  of  Maria  delle  Grazie,  in  Milan.  This  lias  long 
been  in  a  bad  state  of  preservation  from  the  fact  that  the  artist 
was  experimenting  in  the  use  of  oil  paints  instead  of  the  usual 
water  colors  for  wall  paintings.  Leonardo,  although  brilliant  and 


SKETCHES    OF    THE    OLD    MASTERS.  247 

the  most  attractive  man  of  his  age,  yet  lacked  application — the 
concentration  of  his  energies  on  any  one  line  of  effort.  He  was 
therefore  the  inferior  of  the  younger  and  rising  genius,  Michael 
Angelo,  with  whom  he  was  often  brought  into  rivalry  and 
jealousy. 

Michael  Angelo  Buonarotti,  was  born  also  near  Florence, 
in  1494,  was  from  an  influential  family,  and  received  all  the 
advantages  of  education.  His  marvelous  talent  for  both  painting 
and  sculpture  was  early  developed.  When  it  is  considered  that 
throughout  his  long  life  of  nearly  ninety  years  he  was  patient, 
laborious,  virtuous  and  indefatigable,  his  great  influence  on  his 
age,  on  the  arts  and  on  all  who  came  after  him,  is  easily  accounted 
for.  Michael  Angelo  lived  in  troublesome  times,  when  political 
changes  were  sudden  and  violent,  and  states  were  continually 
passing  from  one  hungry  possessor  to  another.  This  ablest  of 
men  had  not  however  the  continence  or  the  wisdom  to  keep 
aloof  from  political  entanglements ;  so  was  he  continually  flying 
from  one  city  to  another,  now  basking  in  favor,  and  now  hiding 
himself  from  his  pursuers.  He  was  never  married,  and  was  past 
sixty  years  old  before  he  met  the  first  woman  who  seems  to  have 
exercised  an  influence  over  him.  The  accomplished  and  high- 
born Victoria  Colonna  gave  him  her  friendship,  and  the  poems 
and  sonnets  that  passed  between  this  elderly  pair  were  at  one 
time  the  amusement  of  all  Italy.  During  the  last  twenty  years 
of  his  life  he  was  the  architect  of  St.  Peter's  church ;  he  made 
all  the  plans,  but  did  not  live  to  see  it  completed.  He  died  in 
Rome  in  1564  ;  his  body  was  taken  to  Florence,  and  buried  with 
unusual  honors  in  the  church  of  Santa  Croce.  Sculpture  seemed 
to  have  been  his  preference,  and  numerous  works,  especially  his 
David  in  Florence  and  his  Moses  in  Rome,  attest  for  him  the 
highest  place  in  the  art.  It  was  with  great  reluctance  that  he 
undertook  the  decoration  of  the  Sistine  Chapel.  The  ceiling, 
which  is  the  most  complete  and  wonderful  series  of  Biblical 
illustrations  that  ever  was  painted,  was  accomplished  by  his  own 
hand  in  twenty  months,  and  when  the  artist  was  thirty-five  years 
old.  The  Last  Judgment  was  executed  twenty  years  later  and 
was  the  labor  of  six  years.  These  monuments  of  painting  have 


248  SKETCHES    OF    THE   OLD   MASTEES. 

placed  the  name  of  Michael  Angelo  at  the  head  of  the  list  of 
perspective  painters. 

Titian. — TITIAN  YECELLIO,  (born  near  Venice  in  1477,  died  at 
Venice  in  1576),  began  at  the  early  age  of  ten  to  show  indications 
of  the  surprising  talent  that  was  in  him.  He  lived  a  long  and 
active  life,  and  was  a  life-long  painter.  It  is  not  strange  there- 
fore that  his  always  beautiful  productions  abound  in  every  old 
collection.  It  is  hard  to  specify  his  best,  since  everything  from 
his  hand  is  so  highly  prized.  His  loving  countrymen  have 
selected  and  carved  in  relief  on  his  tomb  "  The  Assumption  of 
the  Virgin,"  and  on  each  side  the  martyrdoms  of  St.  Lawrence 
and  St.  Peter.  The  last  is  the  one  which  is  generally  considered 
his  best  work.  The  Venetian  School  is  noted  for  its  mastery  in 
colors,  but  is  accused  of  being  faulty  in  design.  Titian  as  a 
colorist  is  unexcelled.  As  the  delineator  and  painter  of  the 
human  form  he  is  matchless.  His  portraits  are  perfectly  mag- 
nificent. Those  that  go  by  the  name  of  "  Titian's  Mistress,"  as 
the  Flora  in  the  Uffizi  and  La  Bella  di  Tiziano  in  the  Pitti,  are 
masterly  productions.  At  the  age  of  thirty-four  he  married  a 
Venetian  lady,  by  whom  he  had  three  children.  He  lived  to  be 
almost  a  hundred  years  old,  and  then  may  be  said  to  have  died 
before  his  time,  for  he  was  carried  off  in  the  midst  of  his  work 
by  the  pestilence  that  has  so  often  ravaged  Italian  cities.  Those 
who  died  of  this  disease  were  not  allowed  the  honors  of  burial, 
but  an  exception  was  made  in  his  case,  and  he  was  buried  in  the 
church  of  the  Franciscans  in  Venice.  His  monument  is  one  of 
the  finest  works  in  marble  that  has  ever  been  made. 

Raphael. — RAPHAEL  SANTI  was  born  at  Urbino,  a  city  on  the 
opposite  side  of  Italy  from  Florence,  in  1483,  and  died  in  Rome 
in  1520.  Like  nearly  all  the  geniuses  of  painting  he  developed 
very  early,  his  father  teaching  him  in  the  art  before  he  was  ten 
years  old,  and  at  sixteen  he  was  filling  orders.  He  entered  the 
Vatican  at  twenty-five  and  died  twelve  years  after.  His  time 
was  short,  but  he  accomplished  a  glorious  work  and  left  an 
undying  name.  He  was  unquestionably  the  first  of  the  Italian 
painters,  and  withal  so  gentle  and  lovely  in  his  character  as  to 
make  only  friends  wherever  he  went ;  as  Vasari  said  of  him, 


SKETCHES  OF  THE  OLD  MASTERS.  249 

"  He  was  full  of  the  might  of  a  noble  nature."  Raphael  was 
never  married,  but  during  the  last  ten  years  of  his  life  his  labors 
were  lightened  and  his  genius  stimulated  by  the  love  of  "  La 
Fornarina,"  whose  picture  is  the  gem  of  the  Barbarini  Palace  in 
Rome,  and  for  whom  he  provided  liberally  in  his  will.  He  was 
buried,  according  to  his  own  singular  desire,  in  the  Pantheon  of 
Rome,  and  with  magnificent  ceremonies.  The  power  of  Raphael 
as  a  painter  lay  in  his  perfect  mastery  of  the  passions.  There 
was  no  shade  of  emotion  or  thought  that  he  could  not  portray  on 
his  canvas.  Every  face  and  every  scene  tells  its  own  story  better 
than  words  can  express  it.  The  Sistine  Madonna  at  Dresden,  is 
a  marvel  of  spiritual  power  and  sublimity.  But  the  Transfigura- 
tion of  Christ  on  the  Mount  is  now  thought  to  be  the  finest 
painting  in  the  world.  It  was  unfinished  when  the  great  painter 
died,  and  when  they  laid  out  his  body  in  state,  they  placed  this 
picture,  such  as  it  was,  beside  it,  as  the  saddest  evidence  of  the 
untimely  work  that  death  had  made. 

Andrea  del  Sarto — so  called  from  his  father's  trade,  that  of 
a  tailor,  his  real  name  being  ANDREA  VANUCCHI — was  born  in 
Florence  in  1487,  wrhere  also  he  died  of  the  plague  in  1531.  He 
earned  a  great  reputation,  both  in  oil  and  fresco,  and  was  called 
"  the  faultless."  He  is  best  known  by  his  frescoes  in  the  convent 
of  the  Annunciata,  in  Florence ;  the  Madonna  del  Sacco  being 
the  best.  He  was  led  into  many  errors  of  character  and  even 
into  a  serious  embezzlement  by  an  unworthy  wife.  But  he 
bitterly  repented,  and  it  is  charitably  supposed  that  evil  was  not 
in  his  nature. 

Correggio. — ANTONIO  ALLEGRI —  called  Correggio  from  his 
birthplace,  a  small  town  between  Modena  and  Parma — was  born 
in  1494,  and  died  of  a  fever  in  his  native  place  in  1534.  But 
little  is  known  of  his  life  beyond  the  fact  that  he  was  one  of 
those  men  who  are  always  in  need,  no  matter  how  much  money 
they  earn.  It  is  probable  that  he  died  in  poverty  and  on  account 
of  privations.  The  greater  part  of  his  work  was  done  at  Parma. 
There  are  those  wonderful  paintings  in  the  domes  of  San 
Giovanni  and  the  Cathedral,  which  show  the  extreme  effects  of 
foreshortening,  an  art  in  which  this  painter  has  the  highest  rep- 


250  SKETCHES    OF   THE    OLD    MASTERS. 

utation.  He  was  asked  what  he  expected  to  do  with  those 
myriads  of  frogs  up  there.  But  when  seen  in  the  right  light 
and  position,  the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin  in  the  cupola  of  the 
Cathedral  is  one  of  the  grandest  scenes  that  was  ever  painted. 
Apparently  all  the  heavenly  hosts  are  there ;  and  no  words  can 
convey  the  richness  and  boundlessness  of  the  effect.  Correggio 
is  the  greatest  master  of  what  is  called  chiaro-scuro,  the  grading 
of  light  and  dark  shades  into  each  other.  His  management  of 
light  was  certainly  wonderful.  In  this  it  may  be  said  that  he  was 
the  founder  of  his  own  style,  for  nothing  went  before  him  that 
was  at  all  like  him.  In  his  pictures  all  is  life  and  motion,  poetry 
and  grace.  Some  of  his  best  are  "  La  Notte  "  or  the  adoration 
of  the  Shepherds  at  night,  and  the  reclining  Magdalene,  in  Dres- 
den, also  the  madonnas  Delia  Scala  and  Delia  Scodella,  at  Parma. 
"La  Zingarella"  (the  Gipsy),  so  called  from  the  turban  worn  by 
the  Virgin,  is  the  portrait  of  his  gentle  and  lovely  wife,  who 
died  shortly  before  him. 

Tintoretto — so  called  from  the  trade  of  his  father,  who  was 
a  dyer,  his  real  name  being  JACOPO  ROBUST: — was  born  at  Venice 
in  1512,  where  also  he  died  in  1594.  When  young  he  was  for  a 
few  days  a  pupil  of  Titian  ;  but  for  some  unaccountable  reason 
he  was  summarily  dismissed.  It  has  been  said  that  Titian  discov- 
ered his  genius  and  feared  his  rivalry ;  but  we  can  hardly  believe 
that.  At  any  rate  this  rebuff  did  not  discourage  the  young 
learner.  He  became  an  indefatigable  worker  and  has  left  some 
canvas  paintings  that  are  perfectly  astounding  for  their  magni- 
tude and  the  amount  of  work  upon  them.  His  Paradise,  in  the 
grand  hall  of  the  Ducal  Palace,  is  the  largest  oil  painting  in  the 
world,  being  74  by  30  feet.  His  best  work,  "  The  Great  Cruci- 
fixion," in  the  School  of  St.  Roch  in  Venice,  has  fifty-seven 
different  personages,  in  every  conceivable  position  and  expression, 
some  on  horseback,  many  of  life  size  and  bearing  the  likeness  of 
men  then  living,  as  Bassano,  Paul  Veronese,  Titian,  &c.  It  is  a 
magnificent  theatrical  representation  ;  and  if  it  did  not  take  place 
as  represented,  we  can  only  say  that  it  would  have  been  a  splen- 
did pageantry  for  the  occasion. 


SKETCHES    OF    THE    OLD    MASTERS.  251 

Paul  Veronese — PAOLO  CAGLIARI — was  born  at  Verona  in 
1528,  and  died  at  Venice  in  1588.  This  always  pleasing  painter 
excelled  in  the  representation  of  grand  architecture,  gorgeous 
draperies,  varied  costumes,  and  generally  in  imposing  scenes  and 
striking  effects.  He  had  a  most  noble  fancy  and  the  utmost  fer- 
tility of  invention.  Whatever  he  undertook  became  a  master- 
piece in  its  way,  and  he  executed  a  great  number  of  oil  paintings. 
No  collection  seemed  complete  without  some  of  the  large  and 
splendid  works  of  this  great  painter.  There  is  the  Adoration  of 
the  Kings  in  the  Dresden  Gallery,  the  Feast  of  the  Levite  in  the 
Venice  Academy,  the  Marriage  at  Cana  in  the  Louvre  of  Paris. 
This  last  is  perhaps  the  best  and  most  elaborate  of  his  works.  It 
is  a  colossal  painting  32  by  21  feet,  and  contains  one  hundred 
and  twenty  figures,  many  of  them  portraits  of  distinguished 
persons  of  the  time,  Queens,  Emperors,  and  Painters.  It  is  a 
wonderful  instance  of  executive  power.  But  after  all  it  is  only 
a  Venetian  feast.  Instead  of  the  scene  being  transported  to 
Galilee,  Christ  is  brought  down  to  Venice  and  the  sixteenth 
century. 

Caracci. — ANNIBALE  CARACCI,  was  born  in  Bologna  in  1560, 
died  in  Rome  in  1609,  and  was  buried  in  the  Pantheon  near 
Raphael.  He  was  the  painter  of  the  remarkable  mythological 
frescoes  in  the  Farnese  Palace  in  Rome.  He,  with  his  brother 
Agostino,  and  uncle  Ludovico,  formed  the  celebrated  Caracci 
school,  which  was  the  middle  link  between  two  great  lines  of 
painters.  Raphael,  Michael  Angelo,  Titian  and  Correggio  pre- 
ceded, and  were  coruscations  of  genius.  What  they  accomplished 
for  art  seemed  in  no  wise  dependent  on  labor.  The  Caracci, 
while  they  were  extraordinary  men,  were  nevertheless  great  only 
as  their  predecessors  were  great.  With  them  all  was  labor  and 
imitation.  But  they  were  the  teachers  of  a  new  race  of  painters 
who  were  to  carry  the  glory  of  Italy  to  its  second  culminating 
point.  The  most  distinguished  of  the  pupils  was 

Guido  Reni  (Gwe-do  JRd-ne). — Born  near  Bologna  in  1575, 
died  at  the  same  place  in  1642.  He  has  left  about  three  hundred 
paintings  to  testify  to  his  ability  and  application,  and  they  are 
scattered  through  all  the  galleries  of  Europe.  The  Crucifixion 


252  SKETCHES    OF    THE    OLD    MASTERS. 

of  St.  Peter  with  his  head  downwards,  which  is  in  the  Vatican, 
is  called  one  of  the  best  of  his  oil  paintings.  The  fresco  of 
Aurora  strewing  flowers  before  the  chariot  of  the  sun,  is  much 
the  finest  ceiling  work  of  this  master.  The  aim  which  Guido 
set  before  himself  in  early  life,  was  to  rescue  and  elevate  art 
from  the  decline  into  which  it  had  fallen  under  Caravaggio  and 
the  Naturalistic  School,  by  which  is  meant  the  selection  of  sub- 
jects from  common  life,  or  as  it  has  been  called,  "  The  Poetry  of 
the  Repulsive."  Guido,  on  the  contrary,  brought  into  his  repre- 
sentations the  highest  order  of  grace  and  beauty.  But  it  was  a 
standard  drawn  entirely  from  his  own  ideals.  As  he  said  of  his 
St.  Michael,  "it  was  in  vain  for  me  to  search  for  his  resemblance 
here  below ;  so  that  I  was  forced  to  make  an  introspection  into 
my  own  mind  and  into  the  idea  of  beauty  which  I  have  formed 
in  my  own  imagination."  Therefore,  as  a  very  natural  conse- 
quence, all  his  personages  are  in  a  great  measure  repetitions  of 
the  same  ideal.  Whether  it  be  a  St.  John,  or  Niobe,  or  Paris,  or 
Christ,  or  Cleopatra,  there  is  the  same  general  resemblance. 
Guido  Reni  must  have  been  at  one  time  in  receipt  of  a  princely 
income  from  his  works ;  but  all  great  men  have  their  failings, 
and  singularly  enough  that  of  this  man  was  gambling.  He  was 
reduced  to  such  distresses  for  money  to  feed  his  ruling  passion 
that  he  used  to  sell  his  time  by  the  hour  for  the  manufacture  of 
Madonnas,  and  of  pictures  unworthy  of  his  genius.  Poverty 
and  debt  at  last  brought  on  the  fever  of  which  he  died. 

Albani. — FRANCISCO  ALBANI,  son  of  a  silk  merchant,  was  born 
at  Bologna  in  1578,  and  died  at  the  same  place  in  1660.  He  was 
a  fellow  pupil  and  friend  of  Guido  Reni,  whom  he  followed  to 
Rome.  There  in  the  Borghese  Palace  are  his  most  famous 
pictures,  "The  Four  Seasons"-  — landscapes  with  mythological 
accessories.  His  excellence  was  in  mythological  and  fanciful 
subjects.  Lanzi  thus  compares  Albani  as  a  painter,  to  Anacreon 
as  a  poet.  "Like  that  poet  with  his  short  odes,  so  Albani  with 
his  small  pictures  acquired  great  reputation,  and  as  the  one  sings 
of  Yenus  and  the  Loves,  and  maids  and  boys,  so  does  the  artist 
hold  up  to  the  eye  the  same  delicate  and  graceful  subjects."  His 
pictures  would  seem  to  be  but  the  repetition  of  his  home  life ;  a 


SKETCHES    OF    THE    OLD    MASTERS.  253 

lovely  and  sightly  villa,  presided  over  by  his  beautiful  wife,  who 
bore  him  twelve  children,  so  lovely  that  they  were  sought  for  as 
models  in  sculpture  and  painting.  Another  friend  of  Albani  was 

Domenichino  (pronounced  keno),  real  name  DOMENICO  ZAM- 
PIERI.  He  was  born  at  Bologna  in  1581,  and  died  at  Naples  in 
1640.  He  was  a  man  of  eminent  genius,  but  timid,  dependent, 
and  ill-fitted  to  make  his  way  against  the  rivalries  that  raged  in 
his  time  among  artists.  He  left  Rome  and  went  to  Naples,  to 
avoid  the  persecutions  of  rivals ;  and  there  he  is  supposed  to  have 
been  poisoned  at  the  instigation  of  three  painters,  notoriously 
known  as  the  cabal  of  Naples.  He  excelled  in  design,  in  compo- 
sition, and  in  expression.  His  masterpieces  are  quite  numerous, 
but  the  best  is  his  "Last  Communion  of  St.  Jerome"  in  the 
Vatican ;  this  is  generally  called  the  second  best  painting  in  the 
world,  and  was  executed  for  the  pitiful  sum  of  about  fifty  dollars. 

Guercino  (Gurcheno),  so  called  from  his  squinting,  his  real 
name  being  GIOVANNI  FRANCISCO  BARBIERI,  was  born  at  Cento, 
near  Bologna,  in  1590,  and  died  in  Bologna  1666.  He  was  of 
very  humble  origin,  and  when  a  boy  had  to  take  care  of  his 
father's  cart,  as  he  delivered  wood  and  faggots  about  the  town. 
Almost  the  only  one  of  the  great  painters  who  was  self-taught 
and  self-made,  he  yet  arrived,  by  force  of  an  original  and  com- 
manding ability,  to  great  distinction  and  affluence.  There  is  a 
grandeur,  life-likeness,  and  brilliancy  of  coloring  in  his  works, 
which,  after  Raphael,  and  with  a  century  between  them,  formed 
the  second  crowning  point  of  Italian  art.  Guercino  painted  two 
hundred  and  fifty  large  pictures,  besides  his  frescoes  and  numer- 
ous smaller  works.  His  best  production  is  probably  the  famous 
Saint  Petronilla  in  the  Capitol  Gallery  in  Rome.  It  was  painted 
for  one  of  the  chapels  of  St.  Peter's  where  there  is  now  a  mosaic 
of  it.  The  saint  is  being  held  up  in  her  tomb  to  be  seen  by 
Flaccus,  her  betrothed. 

Carlo  Dolci  (Dol-che),  a  native  of  Florence,  was  born  in  1616, 
and  died  in  1686.  His  best  works  were  those  of  a  devotional 
character,  Madonnas  and  penitent  saints.  To  these  subjects  he 
gave  great  beauty  and  grace ;  and  among  the  enthusiasts  of  sacred 
pictures  this  painter  has  many  passionate  admirers.  His  Mater 


254:  SKETCHES    OF    THE    OLD    MASTEES. 

Dolorosa,  his  Ecce  Homo,  his  Magdalene,  his  St.  John  sleeping, 
are  all  beautiful,  and  have  been  many  times  copied  and  imitated. 

Carlo  Maratti-^Was  born  at  Camerino,  up  in  the  mountains 
from  Ancona,  in  1625,  and  died  at  Rome  in  1713.  He  was  a 
very  pleasing  painter,  but  not  a  very  original  genius.  Having 
had  the  good  fortune  to  secure  the  favor  of  the  Popes  of  his 
time,  he  became  very  popular  in  Rome,  and  has  been  called  the 
u  Last  of  the  Romans."  His  best  works,  like  those  of  all  the 
last  painters,  were  Madonnas  and  Holy  Families. 

Here  ends  the  list  of  the  old  masters  in  Italy.  We  have  men- 
tioned all  those  who  have  any  claims  to  originality  and  inborn 
genius.  They  have  had  no  successors  among  their  countrymen. 
Outside  of  Italy  we  have  occasion  to  mention,  for  the  purpose 
of  completing  the  list,  only  one  name,  that  of 

Murillo — born  at  Seville,  in  Spain,  in  1617,  where  also  he  died 
in  1682.  In  his  early  life  he  was  harassed  by  poverty,  and  his 
pictures  were  frequently  sold  for  what  they  would  bring  on  the 
street.  But  at  the  age  of  thirty  he  married  a  rich  and  noble 
wife,  and  from  this  time  he  took  rank  among  the  first  in  Seville. 
His  earlier  works  were  largely  from  common  life,  as  beggar  boys, 
peasants,  &c.  Later  he  painted  almost  exclusively  religious  sub- 
jects. In  this  field  he  is  probably  without  a  rival.  Although 
it  was  said  that  he  had  covered  more  canvas  than  any  other 
painter,  yet  in  all  the  vast  number  of  his  paintings  there  is  no 
sameness,  no  tiresomeness.  Every  repetition  of  the  sainted 
Mary  has  that  in  it  of  varied  beauty  and  tenderness  and  purity, 
that  touches  even  the  unsuperstitious  heart,  and  that,  in  those 
days  of  saint  worship,  must  have  stirred  the  very  depths  of 
religious  emotion. 

It  is  often  a  matter  of  great  surprise  to  visitors  of  foreign 
galleries  to  see  such  countless  numbers  of  Madonnas,  and  scenes 
from  the  life  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  The  truth  is  that  these  paint- 
ings have  all  been  at  one  time  objects  of  worship  in  some  church 
or  private  chapel.  In  Catholic  countries  the  votaries  kneel  down 
and  say  their  prayers  before  pictures  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  A 
beautiful  painting,  from  which  the  Mother  of  God  looked  down 
upon  the  worshipers  with  the  ineffable  sweetness  or  the  mournful 


SKETCHES    OF    THE    OLD    MASTERS.  255 

sorrow  of  Murillo's  Madonnas,  inspired  transports  of  devotion 
in  those  who  believed  that  she  was  the  great  intercessor  between 
them  and  the  more  august  and  unapproachable  personages  of  the 
Godhead.  There  was  then,  through  all  the  years  when  art  flour- 
ished, a  constant  demand  for  these  devotional  paintings.  They 
were  almost  the  only  remunerative  subjects.  And  it  is  a  sad  truth 
that  too  many  of  the  gifted  masters  were  compelled  to  exhaust 
the  wealth  of  their  genius  on  altar-pieces  which  have  now  lost 
their  peculiar  significance,  and  are  attractive  only  as  they  are 
beautiful  pictures. 


THE   STORIES   OF   NOTED   PAINTINGS/ 


REBECCA  AT   THE   WELL. 

She  is  admiring  the  presents  that  have  been  given  to  her  by 
Eliezer.  Original,  supposed  to  be  by  TINTORETTO  (1512-1594), 
is  in  the  Gallery  at  Parma.  Abraham,  when  quite  a  young  man, 
emigrated  to  the  west,  and  became  very  rich.  But  he  was  among 
strangers  and  did  not  desire  his  boy  Isaac,  who  had  now  come  to 
the  marriageable  age  of  forty,  to  take  him  a  wife  not  of  his  kin- 
dred ;  so  he  loaded  up  ten  of  his  camels  with  valuable  presents, 
and  told  his  chief  steward  to  go  down  into  Mesopotamia  among 
his  relatives,  and  look  up  a  wife  for  the  lad.  After  a  journey  of 
about  a  thousand  miles  the  old  servant  arrived  near  his  destination 
and  stopped  by  the  well  where  the  family  of  Nahor,  who  was 
Abraham's  brother,  were  wont  to  go  for  water ;  and  he  said  to 
himself, — the  first  damsel  that  comes  and  who,  when  I  ask  to 
drink,  shall  offer  to  draw  also  for  the  camels,  shall  be  the  one 
whom  the  Lord  has  chosen  ;  and  while  he  was  yet  speaking, 
there  came  out  a  damsel  very  fair  to  look  upon,  and  went  down 
to  the  well  and  filled  her  pitcher.  Then  he  ran  to  her  and  asked 
her  for  some  water  to  drink,  and  she  made  haste  to  give  him  to 
drink  and  also  to  draw  for  the  camels.  And  it  came  to  pass  as 
the  camels  had  done  drinking  that  the  man  took  a  golden  earring, 
of  half  a  shekel  weight  (a  shekel  is  about  half  an  ounce),  and 
two  bracelets  for  her  arms,  of  ten  shekels  weight  of  gold ;  and 
he  said — "  Whose  daughter  art  thou  ?  Tell  me  I  pray  thee  ;"  and 
she  said,  "  the  daughter  of  Bethuel,  Nahor's  son,  whom  Milcah 
bare  unto  him ;"  and  he  put  the  earrings  upon  her  face  and  the 
bracelets  upon  her  arms.  Is  there  need  to  say,  after  this,  that 
when  those  camels  returned  to  the  land  of  Canaan,  they  carried 
back  the  fair  Rebekah  and  her  damsels  ? 


Written  in  1875  for  the  Catalogue  of  Powers  Art  Gallery,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 


258  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

THE   SHOWER,  OF   GOLD. 

By  PIETRO  LIBERI  (born  at  Padua  in  1605,  died  1687).  Away 
back  in  the  dateless  periods  of  ancient  Greece,  as  the  fable  runs, 
a  certain  King  of  Argos,  seeing  no  signs  of  a  son  to  succeed 
him,  consulted  the  oracle  thereon,  and  was  told  that  he  himself 
would  have  no  male  issue,  but  that  his  daughter  Danae  would 
bear  a  son  who  would  one  day  kill  and  succeed  his  grandfather. 
To  prevent  this  unpleasant  contingency  the  king  locked  up  his 
daughter  in  a  brazen  tower  and  kept  her  there  for  years.  But 
the  cry  of  a  little  four  year  old  at  last  opened  the  prison  doors, 
and  the  startled  king  demanded  whose  child  that  was.  Danae 
said  that  Jupiter  had  descended  to  her  in  a  shower  of  gold,  and 
that  she  had  borne  the  semi-divine  offspring.  The  king,  who 
was  evidently  a  wholly  irreligious  man,  refused  to  believe  any 
such  story.  He  boxed  up  the  mother  and  child  and  pushed 
them  out  to  sea.  They  were  carried  by  the  winds  and  waves  to 
a  certain  island,  where  they  were  found  and  hospitably  received, 
and  Perseus  grew  up  to  manhood.  He  went  through  adventures 
too  numerous  to  mention,  till  at  last,  being  engaged  in  the  public 
games  in  some  distant  place,  he  accidentally  pitched  a  quoit  into 
an  old  man  and  ended  his  days.  This  old  man  proved  to  be 
Acrisius,  his  grandfather.  Moral  —  (according  to  the  Greek 
narrator)  —  It  is  in  vain  for  man  to  fight  against  the  gods. 

ST.   CECILIA. 

By  EAPHAEL  — (born  1483,  died  1520).  St.  Cecilia,  with  a 
"  regal "  in  her  hands,  is  listening  to  the  heavenly  music  in  an 
ecstatic  trance.  She  is  surrounded  by  the  four  patron  saints  of 
Bologna,  (commencing  on  the  left)  St.  Paul,  St.  John,  St. 
Augustine  and  Mary  Magdalene.  There  are  many  who  think 
this  the  finest  painting  in  the  world,  and  it  would  be  hard  to 
prove  them  much  in  error.  St.  Cecilia  lived  in  the  third  century, 
and  was  the  daughter  of  a  noble  and  wealthy  Roman  who,  with 
his  family,  secretly  embraced  Christianity.  Her  husband  was 
beheaded  on  account  of  his  faith,  and  she,  being  also  suspected, 
was  ordered  to  worship  Jupiter.  On  her  refusal  she  was  con- 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  259 

demiied  to  be  thrown  into  a  bath  of  boiling  water.  The  story 
relates  that  this  did  not  hurt  her  at  all,  and  an  executioner  was 
sent  to  slay  her  with  the  sword.  His  hand  trembled  so  that  he 
inflicted  three  wounds  on  her  neck  and  breast,  and  yet  did  not 
kill  her.  She  lingered  three  days.  She  gave  her  money  to  the 
poor,  and  desired  that  her  house  should  be  made  a  church.  She 
died  sweetly  singing,  and  was  buried  beside  her  husband.  The 
Church  of  St.  Cecilia-in-Trastevere,  in  Rome,  consecrates  the 
place  where  she  suffered  martyrdom,  and  contains  the  treasured 
remains  of  herself  and  her  husband  St.  Valerian,  as  well  as  other 
martyrs. 

THE   THREE   FATES. 

By  MICHAEL  ANGELO — (born  1475,  died  1564).  In  the  old 
mythology  the  Fates  or  Farcae  were  the  daughters  of  Erebus  and 
Nox,  and  were  supposed  to  preside  over  the  birth,  life,  and  death 
of  mortals.  Clotho,  as  the  arbiter  of  births,  holds  in  her  hands 
a  distaff,  from  which  the  thread  commences  to  run.  Lachesis, 
disposer  of  the  events  and  actions  of  human  life,  twists  the 
thread  between  her  fingers.  And  Atropos,  the  inevitable  destiny, 
holds  herself  ready  to  cut  it  off  with  her  scissors.  They  were 
considered  powerful  godesses,  and  were  worshiped  with  great 
solemnity. 

MARY  MAGDALENE. 

By  TITIAN— (born  1477,  died  1576).  Mary  Magdalene,  the 
most  interesting  of  the  women  of  Bible  history,  the  loving  sister 
of  Lazarus,  she  of  whom  the  Saviour  said,  "  She  has  chosen  that 
good  part  which  shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her,"  she  who 
bathed  the  feet  of  the  Lord  at  the  feast  of  Simon,  she  who  was 
first  at  the  sepulchre  on  the  morning  of  the  Resurrection — this 
was  the  favored  name  under  which  the  painters,  each  and  all  of 
them,  lavished  the  wealth  of  their  genius  in  depicting  all  that 
was  tender  and  loving  in  woman.* 

*  In  describing  the  paintings  of  this  subject  by  the  old  masters  it  is  appro- 
priate and  even  necessary  to  follow  the  legends  of  the  church,  which  make 
Mary  Magdalene  and  Mary  the  sister  of  Lazarus  one  and  the  same  person. 
The  beautiful  pictures  of  the  Magdalene  in  a  cave  (see  the  story  following) 
would  have  no  meaning  on  any  other  supposition.  Modern  commentators, 
however,  make  two  distinct  persons  of  these  scripture  Marys.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  Bible  to  contradict  either  of  the  hypotheses. 


260  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

THE  PENITENT  MAGDALENE;   OB,   THE  MAGDALENE 
IN  A  CAVE. 

By  POMPEO  BATTONI — (born  at  Lucca  1708,  died  at  Rome, 
1788).  The  original  is  in  the  Royal  Gallery  of  Dresden.  The 
legends  of  the  primitive  church  form  a  sequel  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment, which  has  influenced  catholic  worship  and  Christian  art 
almost  as  much  as  the  sacred  narrative  itself.  According  to  those 
legends,  Lazarus  and  his  sisters  Martha  and  Mary,  and  the  blind 
man  who  was  restored  to  sight,  and  two  others,  were  set  adrift 
on  the  Mediterranean,  shortly  after  the  crucifixion  of  Christ,  in 
a  boat  without  sails,  or  oars,  or  rudder.  They  were  wafted  at  the 
sport  of  the  winds  and  waves,  till  finally  they  were  driven  into 
the  harbor  of  Marseilles.  Here  they  preached  to  the  heathen 
and  did  miraculous  works,  until  a  little  church  was  started,  over 
which  Lazarus  became  bishop.  But  Mary,  always  bewailing  the 
sins  of  her  early  life,  retired  to  a  cave  between  Marseilles  and 
Toulon,  where  in  her  need  she  was  ministered  to  by  angels,  and 
from  which,  after  many  years  of  solitude  and  expiation,  she  was 
carried  to  Heaven  by  the  same  ministering  hands.  Some  of  the 
loveliest  scenes  in  all  the  realm  of  painting  are  those  which  pre- 
sent this  fair  penitent  in  her  solitary  cave  life. 

DAVID  WITH  THE  HEAD  OF  GOLIATH,  MEETING  THE 
DAUGHTERS  OF  SAUL. 

By  ANDREA  DAL  FRISO — (born  1551,  died  1611).  Of  all  the 
champions  of  the  Philistines,  that  most  persistent  and  prolific 
enemy  of  ancient  Israel,  Goliath  of  Gath  seems  to  have  been 
the  most  remarkable  and  terrible.  He  was  near  12  feet  in  height, 
his  coat  of  mail  weighed  150  pounds,  his  spear  "  was  like  a 
weaver's  beam"  and  carried  a  20  pound  point  of  iron.  The 
engagement  which  brought  this  monster  to  the  front  was  one  of 
forty  days  duration ;  and  morning  and  evening  of  each  day  he 
had  come  out  between  the  hosts  defying  any  man  of  the  Israelites 
to  single  combat.  It  happened  on  the  last  day  that  young  David, 
who  had  been  taken  from  his  flocks  to  be  sent  to  the  army  with 
provisions  for  his  elder  brethren,  heard  the  challenge  and  offered 
at  once  to  go  out  against  him.  The  offer,  unequal  as  it  was,  was 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  261 

only  too  gladly  accepted  by  his  terror-stricken  countrymen  ;  and 
David,  armed  only  with  his  staff  and  sling,  met  the  mail-clad 
giant  in  mortal  combat.  At  the  first  throw  the  practiced  slinger 
felled  his  foe  with  a  stone  well  implanted  in  his  forehead.  On 
his  way  to  Saul  bearing  the  trophy  of  the  bloody  head,  he  met 
the  king's  daughters,  singing  "  Saul  lias  slain  his  thousands  and 
David  his  ten  thousands." 

CLEOPATRA. 

By  GUIDO  RENI —  (born  1575,  died  1642).  Cleopatra,  the 
Queen  of  Egypt,  and  the  last  of  the  royal  race  of  the  Ptolemies, 
killed  herself,  it  is  supposed,  by  the  bite  of  a  small  but  exceed- 
ingly poisonous  serpent,  called  the  aspic.  After  the  famous 
naval  battle  of  Actium,  B.  C.  31,  the  city  of  Alexandrea  fell 
into  the  hands  of  the  Romans.  Marc  Anthony,  who  for  the  love 
of  this  fatal  woman  had  been  fighting  on  her  side  against  his 
country  and  kindred,  on  receiving  a  false  rumor  that  the  Queen 
had  committed  suicide,  fell  on  his  sword  with  a  like  purpose ; 
but  had,  after  all,  the  mortifying  consolation  of  dying  in  her 
arms.  Cleopatra  then  tried  to  cast  the  spell  of  her  charms  over 
the  new  Roman  conquerer,  Augustus,  as  she  had  so  often  done  on 
other  occasions ;  but  failing  in  this,  and  seeing  all  empire  lost, 
this  most  fascinating  woman  perhaps  that  ever  lived,  at  the  age 
of  thirty-nine,  enclosing  herself  alone  in  her  castle,  thus  died  the 
painless  death  of  the  asp-poisoned,  to  avoid  the  humiliation  of 
being  taken  to  Rome  to  grace  the  triumphal  procession  of  Caesar 
Augustus. 

THE   ANGEL  REFUSING  THE   GIFTS  OF   TOBIT. 

By  GIOVANNI  BILIVERTI— (born  at  Florence  in  1576,  died  1644). 
The  story  of  Tobit  is  told  in  one  of  the  Apocryphal  books  of  the 
Old  Testament.  He  was  a  rich  Jew  who,  with  his  wife  Sara 
and  his  son  Tobias,  was  carried  into  captivity  by  the  Assyrians. 
He  lived  a  just  life  and  gave  freely  of  his  goods  to  help  his 
brethren.  In  one  way  and  another  his  misfortunes  were  increased, 
and  he  became  blind,  and  nothing  was  left  to  him  but  his  wife 
and  son.  In  this  strait  the  angel  Raphael  was  sent  to  him,  who, 


262  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

in  the  guise  of  a  servant  and  a  guide  working  for  stipulated 
wages,  brought  him  by  various  devices  out  of  his  poverty,  restored 
to  him  his  sight,  and  obtained  for  his  son  a  fair  and  wealthy  wife. 
When,  however,  they  called  Eaphael  before  them  to  pay  him  his 
wages,  and  further  to  give  him  the  half  of  all  the  wealth  he  had 
helped  them  to  obtain,  the  angel  refused  the  gifts,  pointed  them 
to  God  as  the  source,  and  informed  them  that  he  was  "one  of  the 
seven  angels  who  go  in  and  out  before  the  glory  of  the  Holy 
One."  "  Then  were  they  troubled  and  fell  upon  their  faces,  for 
they  feared.  But  he  said  unto  them,  fear  not,  for  it  shall  go  well 
with  you.  Praise  God  therefore.  Arid  after  a  few  more  words 
he  vanished,  and  when  they  arose  they  could  see  no  one." 

THE   RAPE  OF  ETTROPA. 

By  PAUL  VERONESE — (born  at  Verona,  1528,  died  at  Venice, 
1588).  The  original  is  in  the  Gallery  of  Paintings  in  the  Palace 
of  the  Conservator]',  at  the  Capitol  in  Rome  (No.  224).  There 
are  also  paintings  of  the  same  subject  by  the  same  master,  very 
similar  in  composition  if  not  copies,  in  the  Ducal  Palace  at 
Venice,  and  in  the  National  Gallery  in  London.  Europa  has 
just  seated  herself  upon  the  bull,  who  has  lain  down  to  receive 
her ;  her  attendant  women  are  arranging  her  dress.  She  is 
again  represented  in  the  middle  ground  as  going  down  to  the 
sea ;  and  in  the  extreme  distance  the  bull  is  swimming  with  her 
towards  the  island. 

A  very  ancient  legend  relates  that  Europa  was  the  daughter 
of  Phoenix,  the  founder  of  Tyre,  and  first  king  of  Phoenicia  in 
Asia  Minor.  Jupiter,  becoming  enamored  of  her,  changed  him- 
self into  a  beautiful  white  bull,  and  approached  her,  "breathing 
saffron  from  his  mouth,"  as  she  was  gathering  flowers  with  her 
companions  in  a  field  near  the  sea-shore.  Europa,  delighted  with 
the  tameness  and  beauty  of  the  animal,  caressed  him,  crowned 
him  with  flowers,  and  at  length  ventured  to  mount  on  his  back. 
The  disguised  god  immediately  made  off  with  his  lovely  burden, 
plunged  into  the  sea,  and  swam  with  her  to  the  Island  of  Crete, 
where  he  resumed  his  own  form,  and  under  a  plane  tree  made 
love  to  the  trembling  maid. 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  263 

THE   HOSPITALITY  OF   ST.    JULIAN. 

By  CHRISTOFANO  ALLORI — (called  il  Bronzino — born  at  Flo- 
rence in  1577,  died  in  1621).  St.  Julian  "the  Hospitaler"  (died 
A.  D.  313),  was  of  noble  family,  and  when  young  given  only  to 
hunting  and  feasting.  One  day  as  he  was  chasing  a  deer,  it 
turned  on  him  and  said,  "Thou  who  pursuest  me  to  the  death 
shalt  cause  the  death  of  thy  father  and  mother."  Affrighted, 
and  to  avoid  fulfilling  the  prophecy,  he  fled  from  his  home  to  a 
far  country,  where  he  married  and  established  himself.  After  a 
time  his  father  and  mother,  led  by  a  strange  fatality,  set  out  to 
find  their  son.  They  arrived  at  his  house  in  his  absence,  were 
received  with  all  kindness  by  his  wife,  and  put  in  her  own  room 
and  bed  to  sleep.  The  husband  coming  back  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, and  entering  his  chamber,  saw  in  the  dim  light  two  persons 
in  his  bed,  and  one  of  them  a  bearded  man.  In  a  transport  of 
jealousy  he  drew  his  sword  and  slew  them  both.  When  imme- 
diately the  truth  was  made  known  to  him,  in  despair  he  fled 
again  from  his  home  ;  and  to  expiate  his  crime  he  built  a  hospital 
at  the  ferry  of  a  dangerous  mountain  torrent,  and  devoted  him- 
self, without  reward,  to  the  succor  and  safety  of  passing  pilgrims. 
At  length  one  winter  day  of  storm  and  swollen  waters,  there  was 
brought  over  at  great  risk  a  poor  leprous  youth  almost  dead  from 
cold  and  exhaustion.  In  spite  of  the  disease  he  took  him  in,  and 
he  and  his  good  wife  tended  him  until  morning.  Then  the  leper 
rose  up,  and  his  face  was  transformed  into  that  of  an  angel,  and 
he  said,  "Julian,  the  Lord  hath  sent  me  to  thee,  for  thy  penitence 
is  accepted,  and  thy  rest  is  near  at  hand  ; "  and  he  vanished 
from  sight.  Then  Julian  and  his  wife  fell  down  and  praised 
God  for  his  mercies ;  and  soon  they  died,  for  they  were  old  and 
full  of  good  works. 

LINDA  OF  CHAMOUNIX. 

By  FERRARI.  The  original  is  in  a  private  collection  in  England. 
She  was  a  beautiful  Savoyard  girl,  and  her  home  was  among  the 
highest  peaks  of  the  Alps.  Like  many  another,  she  had  the 
irresistible  longing  for  something  better — for  dress  and  city  life 
and  luxury.  Secretly  she  left  her  mountain  village  arid  found 


264  THE    STORIES    OF   NOTED    PAINTINGS.. 

her  way  to  Paris.  Her  father  soon  followed  after  her,  and  in  the 
guise  of  a  beggar,  sought  her  from  door  to  door.  At  last  he 
found  her  as  the  richly  attired  mistress  of  a  young  nobleman. 
They  recognized  each  other  at  the  door,  and  she  offered  him  a 
purse  of  gold  which  he  refused,  but  besought  her  to  go  back 
with  him.  When  he  found  that  it  was  in  vain  for  him  to  urge, 
lie  returned  to  his  home,  and  sent  back  in  his  place  the  young 
lover  of  Linda.  This  one  sings  under  her  windows  the  beautiful 
songs  of  Savoy  and  of  the  early  love,  till  every  home  instinct  is 
stirred  in  her  heart  and  the  old  ties  lead  her  back  to  duty  and 
repentance.  This  story  has  been  wrought  into  one  of  the  most 
interesting  of  the  French  operas,  in  which  the  wanderer,  having 
lost  her  reason,  is  led  by  the  power  and  associations  of  music  all 
the  long  way  back  to  her  home  and  friends.  The  painting  shows 
the  handsome  Savoyard  thus  conducting  her,  and  they  are 
"almost  there." 

LUCRETIA,   THE   ROMAN. 

By  GUIDO  RENI — (born  1575,  died  1642).  The  original  is  in 
the  Capitoline  Gallery  of  paintings  in  Rome.  The  story  of 
Lucretia  is  told  by  Livy  in  manner  as  follows :  Now  it  happened, 
in  the  year  of  Rome  242  (510  B.  C.),  that  Sextus,  the  eldest  son 
of  King  Tarquin  the  Proud,  was  seized  with  a  wicked  passion 
for  Lucretia,  the  wife  of  his  cousin,  Tarquin  of  Collatia ;  and 
one  night  while  her  husband  was  away  to  the  wars,  he  gained 
entrance  to  her  room  and  by  cowardly  threats  compelled  her  to 
submit  to  him.  Immediately  that  she  was  at  liberty.  Lucretia 
sent  in  haste  to  Rome  for  her  father,  and  to  the  camp  for  her 
husband  ;  and  when  they  came  she  told  them  of  the  wicked  deed 
of  Sextus,  and  she  said,  "  If  ye  be  men  avenge  it."  And  they 
swore  to  her  that  they  would  avenge  it.  Then  she  said  again, 
"  I  am  not  guilty,  yet  must  I  too  share  in  the  punishment  of 
this  deed,  lest  any  should  think  that  they  may  be  false  to  their 
husbands  and  live."  And  she  drew  a  knife  from  her  bosom  and 
stabbed  herself  to  the  heart.  From  this  affecting  tragedy  sprang 
the  revolution  which  banished  the  last  tyrant  from  Rome  and 
made  Junius  Brutus  and  Tarquin,  the  husband  of  Lucretia,  the 
first  Consuls  of  the  new  Republic. 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  265 

RUTH   GLEANING. 

Supposed  to  be  by  TITIAN.  The  original  is  in  the  Palazzo 
Commnnale,  Bologna.  In  the  middle  of  the  Old  Testament^  in 
the  very  midst  of  the  wars,  and  the  laws,  and  the  genealogies  of 
that  stern  old  race  of  Israelites,  comes  the  little  book  of  Ruth, 
telling  one  of  the  most  delightful  episodes  of  family  life  and 
love  that  ever  was  written.  The  story  is  too  long  and  too  well 
known  to  be  related  here.  It  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  Ruth, 
being  a  fair  young  widow,  but  a  stranger  in  the  land,  being  of 
the  race  of  the  Moabites,  and  being  restricted  by  the  severe 
customs  of  the  Jews  to  marrying  only  the  nearest  of  kin  to  her 
husband  who  would  or  could  take  her  to  wife,  found  herself 
obliged  to  resort  to  certain  ruses  in  order  to  excite  the  attention 
of  her  relatives.  This  gleaning  in  the  barley  fields,  then,  was 
only  one  of  the  innocent  devices  that  she  practiced  to  bring  her- 
self to  the  notice  of  the  rich  uncle  Boaz,  who  was  gathering  in 
his  harvests  there,  and  who  was  seemingly  a  very  good  party  for 
the  beautiful  widow  if  he  only  could  be  awakened  to  a  sense  of 
his  duty  in  the  matter.  It  is  hardly  needful  to  add  that  Ruth, 
assisted  by  her  mother-in-law,  Naomi,  succeeded  in  every  point. 

BEATRICE   CENCI  IN  PRISON. 

The  portrait  of  Beatrice  Cenci  (Bd-a-tre-cha  Ch&n-che)  is  from 
the  original  of  Guroo  RENI  (born  1575,  died  1642),  in  the  Bar- 
berini  Palace  in  Rome ;  bat  the  combination  is  the  original  of  a 
young  and  promising  artist  now  living,  ACHILLE  LEONARDI — 52 
Via  Babuino,  Rome.  The  beautiful  girl  having  been  imprisoned 
in  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo  and  forbidden  all  intercourse,  the 
young  Guido  has  been  obliged  to  steal  into  the  cell,  concealed  by 
the  Judge's  robe,  and  to  take  his  sketch  from  this  almost  back 
view.  Beatrice  Cenci  was  beheaded  in  Rome  September  llth, 
1599.  Her  father,  Count  Cenci,  was  notorious  for  his  crimes, 
his  violence  and  cruelty.  He  had  purchased  pardons  of  the 
Papal  priesthood  so  often  and  by  such  enormous  sums  that  he 
was  called  "  a  certain  and  copious  source  of  revenue."  He  had  a 
walled  and  moated  castle  called  "  Petrella,"  in  a  most  desolate 
region  on  the  Neapolitan  frontier,  to  which  he  retired  during  the 


266  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

summer  with  his  family,  three  children  and  a  second  wife,  and 
where  lie  indulged  in  every  species  of  wanton  cruelty  with  im- 
punity. Here  the  surpassing  beauty  of  Beatrice  excited  his 
unnatural  desires ;  and  to  violence  and  barbarity  was  added  the 
crime  of  incest.  These  accumulated  villainies  finally  aroused  his 
wife  to  conspire  with  the  steward  and  others  to  destroy  their 
common  tyrant.  He  was  assassinated  and  his  bod}7  thrown  from 
the  wall.  Suspicions  were  excited  ;  the  family  were  thrown  into 
prison  ;  Beatrice  was  particularly  persecuted,  was  hung  up  by 
the  hair,  and  finally  forced  to  say  that  she  committed  the  murder. 
Family  rivalries  and  property  considerations  incited  the  persecu- 
tion. She  was  condemned  to  death  by  Pope  Clement  VIII,  was 
beheaded,  and  buried  in  San  Petro-in-Montorio,  in  Rome,  before 
the  High  Altar.  Her  portrait  was  taken  by  Guido  Eeni  just 
before  her  execution. 

THE   SAMIAN  SIBYL. 

By  GUERCINO — (born  1590,  died  1666).  In  an  open  book,  on 
which  the  Sibyl  places  her  hands,  one  reads  this  Latin  verse : 
"Salve  casta  syon  perrnulta  que  passa  puella" — welcome,  Virgin 
divine,  who  hast  passed  through  many  trials !  The  Sibyls  were 
ancient  Greek  prophetesses,  who,  as  the  early  Fathers  claimed, 
foretold  the  coming  of  Christ  to  the  Gentiles,  as  the  prophets 
did  to  the  Jews.  They  were  consulted  as  oracles,  were  regarded 
as  holy  virgins,  and  lived  in  caves  and  grottoes.  Varro,  a  Latin 
author,  B.  C.  100,  mentions  ten  of  them,  named  from  the  locali- 
ties of  their  habitations,  of  whom  the  Samian  Sibyl  was  the 
sixth.  She  is  supposed  to  have  lived  about  the  time  of  Isaiah, 
and  to  have  prophesied  to  the  Greeks  who  came  to  see  her  on 
the  Island  of  Samos. 

CUM-ffiAN  SIBYL. 

By  ROMANELLI,  a. painter  of  the  Bolognese  School,  and  of  the 
17th  century.  Original  in  the  National  Museum  at  Naples.  The 
Sibyl  has  in  her  left  hand  a  book  with  the  inscription,  "  Ut  non 
confundar" — Let  me  not  be  confounded,  or  misunderstood. 

The  Cumaean  is  the  most  ancient  and  most  celebrated  of  all 
the  Sibyls.  The  legend  is  that  Apollo  fell  in  love  with  her,  and 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  267 

offered  her  anything  she  was  minded  to  ask  for.  She  immediately 
picked  up  a  handful  of  sand  and  demanded  to  live  as  many  years 
as  there  were  grains  of  sand  in  it.  But  it  was  a  boon  which 
brought  no  good  to  either  party ;  for  she  refused  in  any  way  to 
favor  his  suit ;  and  he  refused  to  add  continued  youth  to  the 
gift.  So  the  prophetess  kept  on  growing  old  and  withered,  till 
when  the  allotted  time  of  some  thirteen  centuries  had  passed, 
there  was  nothing  left  of  her  to  die  but  her  voice.  "  Vox  pre- 
terea  nihil."  She  had  lived  one  hundred  years  when  ^Eneas 
came  into  Italy,  whom,  according  to  Virgil,  she  conducted  into 
the  infernal  regions.  Three  hundred  and  fifty  years  later  she 
appeared  to  Tarquin,  the  last  King  of  Ancient  Rome,  with  nine 
books  of  prophecy  which  she  desired  to  sell.  But  he  treated  the 
matter  lightly,  and  she  went  away  and  destroyed  three  of  them  ; 
then  she  came  back  and  demanded  the  same  price  for  the  six  re- 
maining. He  still  refusing,  she  went  away  and  destroyed  three 
more.  When  last  she  came  back  demanding  the  same  sum  for 
the  three  that  were  left,  surprise  and  curiosity  induced  the  king 
to  look  into  them ;  and  he  was  then  only  too  glad  to  take  them 
at  any  price,  and  to  preserve  them  as  among  the  most  precious 
archives  of  Rome.  She  never  afterwards  appeared  in  history  or 
fable.  The  painters,  with  a  very  excusable  license,  have  always 
represented  this  Sibyl  as  young — not  more  than  fifteen  years  old. 
She  is  believed  to  have  foretold  the  event  of  the  birth  of  Christ 
in  a  stable  in  Judea. 

THE   MADONNA  BELLA   SEDIA. 

By  RAPHAEL  — (born  1483,  died  1520).  Original  in  the  Pitti 
Gallery,  Florence,  No.  79.  This  painting  is  of  the  exact  size  of 
the  original ;  and  the  beautiful  circular  frame  is  the  exact  copy 
of  the  one  which  frames  the  original  picture. 

A  very  interesting  story  is  told  connected  with  the  inception 
of  this  painting.  There  was  an  old  hermit,  called  Father  Ber- 
nardo, who  lived  up  in  the  Florentine  mountains,  and  whose 
solitary  hut  was  under  a  great  oak  tree.  Now  there  was  a 
Mary,  the  young  daughter  of  a  vine-dresser,  who  used  to  visit 
the  old  man,  and  bring  him  both  presents  and  kindly  words  to 


268  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

cheer  his  loneliness ;  so  that  he  was  wont  to  say  that  he  had  two 
daughters,  two  angels  of  comfort,  the  old  oak  and  the  lovely 
girl.  At  the  breaking  up  of  one  terribly  severe  winter  the  hermit 
found  himself  surrounded  by  the  mountain  floods,  and  was 
obliged  to  take  refuge  in  his  oak  tree,  where  he  remained  three 
days,  and  was  finally  rescued,  almost  perishing,  by  Mary  and  her 
father,  who  had  come  up  as  soon  as  they  were  able,  to  see  how  it 
had  fared  with  the  recluse.  Everything  that  he  had  was  swept 
away,  and  they  took  the  holy  man  home  with  them  till  they 
could  fit  him  up  another  hut  in  his  favorite  retreat.  Then  Father 
Bernardo  blessed  his  two  daughters,  his  preservers  as  he  called 
them  ;  and  it  was  ever  his  prayer  that  the  two  might  be  together 
distinguished  in  some  remarkable  way.  Years  passed  on ;  the 
hermit  was  gathered  among  the  faithful,  and  the  old  oak  was 
made  up  into  wine  casks  for  the  vine-dresser.  One  day  as  Mary,' 
now  a  wife  and  a  mother,  with  two  beautiful  boys,  was  sitting 
near  one  of  these  casks,  and  wondering  how  the  holy  man's 
blessing  could  ever  be  fulfilled,  there  came  along  a  young  man 
whose  great  heavenly  eyes  seemed  to  be  searching  for  the  beauti- 
ful. It  was  Raphael  Sanzio.  '  He  stopped,  and,  struck  with  the 
marvelous  beauty  of  the  mother  and  children,  he  asked  to  make 
them  the  models  of  a  madonna  picture  which  he  had  long 
desired  to  paint.  He  had  only  his  pencil  and  nothing  to  draw  up- 
on. Turning  to  the  smooth  head  of  the  cask  near  by,  he  sketched 
on  it  the  likeness  of  this  lovely  family,  took  it  home,  and  there 
brought  out  the  famous  Madonna  of  the  Chair,  probably  the  best 
known  of  all  the  representations  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 

THE  APPIAN  WAY. 

The  Yia  Appia  was  commenced,  as  a  military  road,  by  Appius 
Claudius,  B.  C.  212,  and  subsequently  extended  to  the  south  of 
Italy.  In  the  vicinity  of  Rome  it  is  lined,  almost  encumbered, 
with  the  ruins  of  ancient  tombs.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  con- 
spicuous and  favorite  burial  place  for  the  old  Romans.  Pope 
Pius  IX  had  it  dug  out  and  opened  up  as  a  road  again,  in  1850-3, 
as  far  as  the  eleventh  mile  stone,  and  it  is  now  one  of  the  most 
delightful  drives  out  of  Rome. 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  269 

THE   CARNIVAL  IN   ROME. 

By  BARTOLOMEO  PAGANI,  a  Roman  artist.  In  all  Catholic 
countries  the  week  before  the  commencement  of  Lent  is  given 
up  to  all  kinds  of  diversions  and  follies  and  masquerades.  In 
Rome  this  celebration  takes  place  on  the  Corso,  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal streets  of  the  city.  Every  balcony  and  window  is  occupied, 
while  lines  of  masqueraders  go  up  and  down  the  street  during  all 
the  afternoon  and  evening.  The  chief  amusement  is  throwing 
bouquets  and  comfits.  These  comfits,  or  confetti  in  Italian,  used 
to  be  small  candies  mixed  with  flour,  but  now  they  are  sifted 
gravel  of  small  size  and  covered  with  powdered  lime.  A  hand- 
ful of  this  thrown  into  one's  face  from  a  long  handled  dipper 
gives  one  the  peculiar  sensation  of  being  shot.  The  amusements 
are  varied  by  horse  races — a  troop  of  unbridled  horses  let  loose 
and  dashing  through  the  street  between  the  crowds  on  either 
side ;  and  finally,  on  the  last  night,  by  the  rudest  attempts  on 
the  part  of  every  body  to  put  out  each  other's  lighted  candles. 
What  would  be  the  occasion  in  any  American  city  of  incessant 
fights  is  there  only  the  most  innocent  and  enjoyable  fun. 

THE   HUSSITES  BEFORE   NAUMBURG,    1431. 

By  NECHUTREY,  of  Vienna,  the  most  noted  of  the  pupils  of 
Kaulbach.  John  Huss,  the  great  Hungarian  Reformer,  was 
burned  at  the  stake  in  1415.  His  followers  took  up  arms,  and 
for  many  years  were  victorious  over  all  opposition,  burning  and 
destroying  innumerable  towns  throughout  Germany.  It  hap- 
pened in  this  time  that  Procopius,  the  Hussite  general,  halted 
his  army  before  the  stronghold  of  Naumburg,  and  proclaimed 
his  intention  to  burn  the  city  and  every  one  in  it.  The  citizens, 
in  the  greatest  consternation,  as  a  forlorn  hope,  got  together  all 
their  children  and  sent  them  with  the  key  of  the  citadel  to  the 
stern  old  warrior,  imploring  his  mercy.  Procopius  was  touched 
by  this  tender  appeal,  and  stayed  his  avenging  hand.  This  cele- 
brated painting  vividly  portrays  the  scene,  which  to  this  day  is 
commemorated  in  the  city  of  Naumburg  by  a  yearly  children's 
festival. 


270  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

THE   FESTIVAL  OF  THE   MADONNA  DELL'    ABCO 
AT   NAPLES. 

By  Louis  LEOPOLD  ROBERT  —  (born  1794,  died  1835).  On  the 
day  after  Whitsunday,  usually  in  the  latter  part  of  May,  all 
Naples  puts  on  its  holiday  clothes  and  gayest  ornaments,  and  re- 
pairs to  the  church  of  the  Madonna  dell'  Arco,  seven  miles  to 
the  eastward  at  the  foot  of  Mt.  Somma.  The  whole  intervening 
distance  is  one  continuous  scene  of  dancing  and  merry-making  — 
men  and  women  crowned  with  wreaths  of  flowers  or  fruits,  and 
carrying  garlands  or  poles  surmounted  with  branches  of  fruit  or 
flowers.  It  is  a  perfect  Bacchanalian  procession ;  and  it  is 
pointed  to  as  indicating  unmistakably  the  Greek  origin  of  this 
festival  loving  people. 

THE    FALCONER. 

In  the  early  times  of  Old  England,  and  down  to  the  reign  of 
the  Georges,  hawking  was  the  great  national  sport.  Persons  of 
rank  scarcely  appeared  outside  of  their  castles  without  a  hawk 
on  their  hands  or  carried  in  their  train.  Great  sums  of  money 
were  spent  on  the  amusement.  As  high  a  sum  as  $5,000  has 
been  paid  for  a  cast  of  hawks.  They  were  trained  to  fly  high  in 
in  the  air,  and  then  swoop  down  on  either  flying  or  running 
game,  striking  the  object  dead  with  their  strong  beaks.  The 
whistle  of  the  falconer  recalled  them  to  the  perch  on  his  finger. 
Hawks  of  the  larger  kinds  imported  from  Tartary,  were  trained 
for  antelopes,  bustards  and  cranes ;  those  of  the  smaller  kinds, 
natives  of  Norway,  were  trained  for  hares,  partridges  and  pigeons. 

THE  GIPSIES'   HOME. 

By  C.  LAREN,  an  English  artist.  If  there  is  a  people  in  the 
world  that  has  no  home,  it  is  the  strolling,  vagabond  Gipsy  race. 
Sprung  from  the  degraded  caste  of  pariahs  in  India,  the  Gipsies 
have  now  been  among  civilized  people  four  hundred  and  fifty 
years ;  yet  they  are  still  precisely  the  same  in  race  and  nature  as 
when  they  first  intruded  themselves  into  Europe.  They  are  most 
numerous  in  the  south  of  Spain ;  and  are  there  compelled  by 
force  of  numbers  to  conform  themselves  somewhat  to  civilized 
modes  of  living. 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  271 

LE   MOIS   D'OCTOBBE.      (La   Becolte   des  pommes  de  terre.) 
OCTOBER.     (THE  GATHERING  OF  THE  POTATOES.) 

By  AUGUSTE  HAGBORG  (born  in  Gothenburg,  Sweden.)  Pupil 
of  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  of  Stockholm,  and  of  Palmarole. 
This  young  and  rising  artist  has  given  us  here  a  most  suggestive 
picture  of  old  country  peasant  life.  A  wide  view  of  field  and 
sky  serves  as  relief  and  contrast  to  two  central  life-size  figures 
which  for  strong  portraiture  and  perfection  of  detail  are  not 
excelled  in  modern  painting. 

The  picture,  a  study  and  an  ever-growing  conception  in  itself, 
derives  a  further  attraction  from  the  fact  that  it  is  a  representa- 
tive painting,  the  first  one  brought  to  this  country,  of  that 
peculiar  school  in  France  of  which  Jean  Millet  was  the  originator 
and  master.  It  seeks  to  portray  and  perpetuate  all  there  is  of  a 
nobler  life  and  a  higher  humanity  in  the  classes  that  have  come 
down  through  centuries  of  serfdom.  Peasant  life  in  Europe  is 
a  sad  picture  at  best ;  and  there  is  little  promise  of  a  brighter  one 
in  the  future.  But  we  on  this  side  of  the  world  know  that  from 
such  earnest  and  self-reliant  toilers  as  stand  forth  in  this  picture, 
the  inheritors  of  the  reserve  force  of  twenty  generations,  are 
born  the  illustrious  men  and  the  fairest  women  of  our  rising 
republic. 

THE  PROPHECY  OF   THE  SIBYL. 

By  ANDREA  DAL  FRISO  — (1551-1611).  The  early  Christian 
Fathers  relate  that  the  Emperor  Augustus  Caesar,  when  the 
Roman  Senate  passed  the  decree  according  to  him  divine  honors, 
went  to  the  Tiburtine  Sibyl  at  Tivoli,  near  Rome,  and  consulted 
her  whether  he  ought  to  receive  them.  She  replied  that  it  better 
befitted  him  whose  power  was  declining  to  go  away  and  hold  his 
peace — that  a  Hebrew  child  would  soon  be  born  who  would  reign 
over  all  the  gods.  And  she  pointed  to  the  heavens  where 
appeared  the  Holy  Virgin  with  her  child,  seated  on  an  altar  in 
the  clouds.  The  Emperor  bowed  down  and  worshiped  the 
miraculous  vision  ;  and  on  his  return  he  erected  on  the  Capitoline 
Hill  an  altar  to  the  "  First  born  of  God."  The  church  of  Santa 
Maria  in  Capitolino  now  consecrates  the  ground  where  this  first 
Christian  altar  is  said  to  have  been  raised. 


272  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

THE  QUEEN  OF  SHEBA  AND  HER  TRAIN. 

By  YENEZIANO  BONIFACIO  —  (born  1494,  died  1563).  A  thou- 
sand years  before  Christ,  when  Solomon  was  building  his  rich 
and  costly  temple,  and  his  trade  and  his  fame  had  extended 
through  all  the  "Land  of  Ophir,"  there  came  up  from  the 
farthest  coast  of  the  Red  Sea  a  wealthy  Arabian  princess,  to  see 
for  herself  the  wisest  man  in  the  world.  She  questioned  him 
and  "  found  that  the  half  had  not  been  told  her."  Costly  gifts 
were  passed  between  them,  and  she  led  her  princely  train  back  to 
her  southern  home.  This  is  the  only  record  of  the  Queen  of 
Sheba,  who,  but  for  this  impulse  of  woman's  curiosity,  would 
have  left  no  mark  on  the  ages  or  inspired  no  painter's  fancy. 

AUCTION  SALE. 

By  A.  LUBEN,  of  Munich.  It  is  acknowledged  in  art  circles 
that  this  painting  is  Luben's  master  piece.  To  take  an  inventory 
of  a  deceased  naturalist's  collections,  and  to  find  customers  for 
such  odds  and  ends,  are  no  slight  test  of  an  artist's  ability.  Yet 
Luben  has  given  us  here  a  most  complete  picture  of  the  old 
books,  the  specimens,  and  the  queer  things  that  such  an  enthu- 
siast would  prize,  and  of  the  motley  group  that  has  gathered  to 
bid  them  down.  The  moral  of  it  all  is  that  the  treasured  collec- 
tions we  often  seek  so  eagerly  in  life  are  very  apt  to  come  sooner 
or  later  to  point  the  joke  of  an  auctioneer. 

CLEOPATRA  DRINKING  THE   DISSOLVED   PEARL. 

By  G.  B.  TIEPOLO  — (born  1697,  died  1770).  The  last  of 
Cleopatra's  lovers  was  Marc  Antony,  the  celebrated  Roman 
Triumvir,  who  for  her  sake  became  recreant  to  his  country,  his 
family  and  his  honor.  But  their  attachment  to  each  other  seems 
to  have  been  extreme  and  worthy  of  a  better  relation.  At  one 
time  when  Antony  was  in  the  east  conquering  kingdoms  to  add 
to  her  empire,  he  sent,  by  one  of  the  almost  daily  messengers 
that  passed  between  them,  a  magnificent  oriental  pearl  which  he 
said  he  presented  warm  with  his  kisses  to  the  queen  of  his  heart 
and  of  his  ambition.  The  romantic  woman  had  it  dissolved  in 
acids,  and  drank  it  as  a  precious  love  philter. 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  273 

THE   IMMACULATE   CONCEPTION. 

By  MURILLO— -(born  1618,  died  1682).  Original  in  the  Royal 
Gallery  of  Madrid.  This  is  the  celebrated  painting  that  gained 
for  Murillo  his  proudest  distinction.  He  was  called  "  The 
painter  of  the  Conception."  It  was  so  superior  to  everything 
else  of  the  kind,  that  it  was  scarcely  remembered  that  Guido 
Reni  and  others  had  painted  the  same  thing,  and  very  beauti- 
fully too. 

The  doctrine  that  Mary  the  Mother  of  Christ  was  also  like  him 
born  without  original  sin,  was  for  many  centuries  a  point  of 
sharp  controversy  in  the  Catholic  church.  It  was  virtually  set- 
tled in  favor  of  the  immaculate  conception,  about  the  year  1620, 
though  not  formally  promulgated  until  1854.  From  that  earlier 
time  the  beautiful  ideal  of  this  painting  was  adopted  to  express 
the  sinless  origin  and  divine  nature  of  the  Virgin.  She  was  rep- 
resented as  young — not  more  than  fourteen — robed  in  white, 
with  a  blue  flowing  mantle,  and  beautiful  as  painting  could  make 
her.  The  model  was  taken  from  the  vision  in  Revelations  (12-1), 
"And  there  appeared  a  great  wonder  in  the  heavens ;  a  woman 
clothed  with  the  sun,  and  the  moon  under  her  feet,  and  upon 
her  head  a  crown  of  twelve  stars." 

MARCO   POLO. 

Was  the  son  of  a  Venetian  merchant,  and  born  about  1250. 
He  traveled  in  Asia,  chiefly  in  Chinese  Tartary,  for  24  years,  and 
on  his  return  was  so  besieged  to  tell  his  wonderful  adventures 
and  descriptions  of  strange  peoples,  that  he  resolved  to  tell  them 
once  for  all  in  a  book,  which  has  not  ceased  to  be  read  and  to' 
give  interest,  even  six  hundred  years  after  the  events. 

CERES  AND   IASION. 

UNKNOWN.  As  ancient  fable  relates,  the  goddess  Ceres  had  a 
rustic  lover  named  lasion  whom  she  met  in  a  "thrice-plowed 
field  "  in  Crete ;  and  of  the  twain  was  born  Plutus,  the  god  of 
wealth.  It  is  a  rather  clumsy  allegory  of  the  production  of 
wealth  from  rustic  toil  in  the  grain  fields. 


274  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

COBIOLANUS  BEFORE  ROME. 

Bj  YENEZIANO  BONIFACIO  —  (1494-1563).  In  the  younger 
days  of  Rome,  when  she  was  first  experimenting  in  republican- 
ism, one  of  her  chieftains,  Caius  Marcius,  called  Coriolanus  from 
one  of  his  daring  exploits,  set  himself  obstinately  against  the 
enfranchisement  of  the  common  people.  It  was  of  course  the 
unpopular  side,  and  he  at  last  became  so  obnoxious  to  the  plebian 
element  that,  to  save  his  life,  he  had  to  escape  from  the  country. 
He  joined  its  enemies  and  led  them  in  their  wars  against  the 
Romans.  He  was  so  successful  that  eventually  Rome  itself  was 
besieged  and  brought  to  the  last  extremity.  Deputations  of 
Senators  and  of  Priests  were  sent  out  to  him  for  terms,  but  all 
to  no  purpose.  At  last  the  happy  thought  struck  the  besieged 
to  send  their  noble  women,  headed  by  his  own  mother,  his  wife 
and  his  children.  Coriolanus  could  not  withstand  their  entrea- 
ties. He  yielded  to  his  mother ;  but  he  told  her  that  in  saving 
her  country  she  had  lost  her  son.  And  he  went  off  into  volun- 
tary banishment  and  there  died  like  an  obstinate  old  Roman,  as 
he  was. 

ST.    SEBASTIAN. 

By  AMERIGHI  DA  CARAVAGGIO  —  (1569-1609).  The  subject  of 
this  painting,  and  of  so  many  other  similar  ones,  was  of  noble 
family,  and  one  of  the  guards  of  the  Emperor  Dioclesian  (A.  D. 
300).  Like  many  Romans  in  that  dangerous  time  he  was  secret- 
ly a  Christian.  Two  of  his  converts  were  accused  of  belonging 
to  this  proscribed  sect  and  were  condemned  to  the  torture.  As 
they  wavered  in  their  courage  at  the  last  moment,  Sebastian, 
regardless  of  himself,  boldly  exhorted  them  to  faith  and  con- 
stancy. Thus  self -exposed,  he  too  was  condemned  to  death,  and 
was  left  for  dead,  pierced  with  innumerable  arrows.  Irene,  the 
the  widow  of  one  of  his  martyred  friends,  in  going  for  the  body 
found  him  still  alive  and  took  him  to  her  house,  where,  with  the 
aid  of  her  daughters,  she  extracted  the  arrows  and  restored  him 
to  life.  But  the  spirit  of  the  martyr  was  still  in  the  Christian 
hero,  and  he  shortly  paid  the  penalty  of  his  faithfulness  under 
the  clubs  of  the  heathen  executioners. 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  275 

.    THE  TEMPTATATION   OF  ST.  ANTHONY. 

By  ALEXANDER  L.  LELOIR,  French,  recently  died.  About  300 
years  after  Christ  there  came  out  of  the  Egyptian  deserts  an  old 
Hermit  of  50  years  or  more,  who  told  the  most  marvelous 
stories  of  his  conflicts  with  Satan  in  the  wilderness ;  how  the  old 
arch  enemy  had  taken  him  on  every  weak  side  of  humanity,  and 
tempted  and  tortured  him  with  perfectly  diabolical  ingenuity. 
On  reading  the  story,  one  would  say  that  the  Devil  must  have 
spent  pretty  much  all  his  time  for  30  odd  years  in  devising  and 
practicing  torments  on  this  poor  recluse.  But  St.  Anthony  lived 
50  years  longer,  and  paid  the  "old  fellow"  back,  in  good  solid 
preaching,  for  all  the  fleshly  vexations  that  had  been  practiced 
on  him. 

THE   BIRTH   OF  LOUIS  XIV,   in    1638. 

By  JAQUES  LEMAN.  "  A  few  days  after  the  birth  of  the 
dauphin,  the  great  dignitaries  and  gentlemen  of  the  King's 
household  were  admitted  to  the  Queen's  room,  to  pay  homage  to 
the  new-born  heir  of  the  crown  of  France." 

It  is  a  great  undertaking  to  go  back  240  years  in  the  annals  of 
a  country  and  reproduce  a  court  scene,  with  all  the  costumes  and 
splendor  of  the  times  and  with  accurate  portraits  of  the  distin- 
guished actors.  Yet  this  is  the  work  here  presented,  and  as  such 
it  is  a  splendid  and  wonderful  success.  The  central  and  most 
important  figure,  though  a  small  one,  is  the  infant  son  of  Louis 
XIII  and  Anne  of  Austria,  born  in  1638,  and  twenty-three  years 
after  the  marriage  of  his  parents.  He  was  made  King  of  France 
when  only  five  years  old,  and  for  the  greater  part  of  the  seventy- 
two  years  of  his  reign  he  filled  the  role  of  the  grandest  monarch 
of  Europe.  The  precocious  babe  in  the  picture  seems  already  to 
realize  that  he  is  a  late  comer,  and  cannot  waste  any  of  his  prec- 
ious time  in  babyhood. 

The  beautiful  mother  and  the  happy  king  will  be  at  once 
recognized.  On  the  right,  and  attended  by  Cardinal  de  Retz — 
or  Father  Joseph  as  he  preferred  to  be  called — is  the  great 
Cardinal  Duke  de  Richelieu,  Grand  Chancellor  of  the  Empire, 
and  at  this  time,  without  doubt,  the  foremost  man  in  Europe. 


276  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

THE  TRANSFIGURATION. 

By  RAPHAEL  —  (born  1483,  died  1520).  The  original  is  in  the 
Vatican  at  Rome.  This  is  the  best  work  of  the  greatest  master 
of  Italian  painting.  It  was  unfinished  at  the  time  of  his  death  ; 
still  it  was  thought  worthy  to  be  placed  beside  his  body  as  it  was 
laid  out  for  public  view.  There  is  here  represented  the  mystery 
of  Christ's  transfiguration  on  Mount  Tabor. 

"And  after  six  days  Jesus  taketh  Peter,  and  James,  and  John, 
his  brother,  and  bringeth  them  up  into  an  high  mountain  apart. 

And  was  transfigured  before  them ;  and  his  face  did  shine  as 
the  sun,  and  his  raiment  was  white  as  the  light. 

And,  behold,  there  appeared  unto  them  Moses  and  Elias,  talk- 
ing with  him." — Matthew,  17:  1-3. 

As  a  most  striking  contrast  to  this  glorious  manifestation  of 
the  divinity  of  the  "  Son  of  Man,"  the  artist  has  introduced  be- 
neath it  the  scene  of  the  pitiful  attempt  and  failure  of  the 
disciples  to  cast  out  the  evil  spirit  from  the  demoniac  boy. 
When  Christ  was  informed  of  this  on  coming  down  from  the 
mountain  he  could  not  resist  that  bitter  cry,  "  O  faithless  and 
perverse  generation,  how  long  shall  I  be  with  you  ?  how  long 
shall  I  suffer  you  ?  bring  him  hither  to  me." 

BATHSHEBA  AT  HER  TOILET. 

By  ANDREA  DAL  FKISO  —  (born  1551,  died  1611).  One  evening 
as  King  David  was  walking  on  the  roof  of  his  palace,  he  saw  at 
a  neighboring  window  "  a  woman  washing  herself,  and  she  was 
very  beautiful  to  look  upon."  Now  the  good  king  was  old 
enough  to  know  better  than  to  be  disturbed  by  such  a  trifling  cir- 
cumstance. But  he  really  did  go  and  misbehave  himself — so 
much  so  that  he  found  her  husband,  Uriah  the  Hittite,  very 
much  in  his  way ;  and  he  had  the  poor  man  exposed  in  the  most 
dangerous  place  at  the  very  next  battle.  The  consequence  was 
that  there  was  another  widow  in  Israel,  whom  David  took  as  one 
of  his  wives.  This  was  the  mother  of  Solomon — the  same  Bath- 
sheba  whom  David  first  saw  as  in  the  lovely  and  luxurious 
picture  drawn  by  the  nephew  and  pupil  of  the  great  Paul 
Veronese. 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  277 

JUDITH  WITH  THE   HEAD   OF  HOLOFERNES. 

By  AUGUST  BIEDEL  —  (horn  at  Bayreuth  in  1800;  now  living 
at  Rome.  Original  is  No.  156  in  the  New  Royal  Pinakothek,  at 
Munich.  In  one  of  the  Old  Testament  Apocryphal  Books  there 
is  related  the  story  of  Judith,  the  rich  and  beautiful  Jewish 
widow.  Her  native  city,  Bethulia,  was  once  besieged  by  an 
Assyrian  army  and  reduced  to  the  last  extremity.  When  there 
seemed  no  longer  a  chance  of  relief,  this  brave  woman  offered 
herself  for  its  deliverance.  She  dressed  herself  in  her  richest 
attire  and  jewels,  and  with  her  waiting  wroman,  presented  her- 
self before  the  tent  of  Holofernes,  the  chief  captain  of  the 
Assyrians.  Her  beauty  captivated  him,  and  her  simple  story 
quieted  his  suspicions.  He  made  a  feast  and  was  allured  into 
drinking  inordinate  quantities  of  wine.  In  the  drunken  sleep 
which  followed,  Judith,  shut  up  alone  with  him  in  his  tent,  cut 
off  his  head  with  his  own  sword,  and  bore  it  to  her  countrymen. 
In  the  early  morning  the  Israelites  fell  upon  their  enemies  while 
they  were  panic-stricken  at  the  slaughter  of  their  leader  and 
totally  routed  them.  Judith  lived  to  receive  the  grateful  love 
of  her  people  till  she  was  one  hundred  arid  five  years  old.  And 
long  afterward  an  annual  feast  commemorated  the  heroic  deed 
of  the  Hebrew  widow. 

GARIBALDI  ESCAPING  FROM  CAPRERA. 

UNKNOWN.  This  famous  Italian  patriot  was  born  at  Nice  in 
1807.  His  life  has  been  filled  with  perilous  adventures  and  un- 
ceasing revolutionary  projects.  In  I860,  the  small  island  of 
Caprera,  lying  off  the  northern  coast  of  Sardinia,  was  given  him 
for  a  residence.  It  was  however  impossible  for  him  to  keep 
quiet,  and  he  was  constantly  engaged  in  schemes  for  Italian  unity, 
mainly  directed  against  the  Papal  rule  in  Rome.  In  one  of  these 
attempts  the  Roman  government,  assisted  by  the  French,  thought 
to  keep  him  confined  to  his  island  by  a  guard  of  ships  of  war ; 
but  he  escaped,  and  was  soon  at  the  head  of  the  insurgents  on 
the  Roman  frontier.  It  was  reserved  however  for  a  stronger 
man  than  Garibaldi  to  unite  and  renovate  Italy  (Victor  Emanuel, 
in  1870). 


278  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

BRENNTJS  IN   HOME. 

By  G.  B.  TIEPOLO  — (born  in  Venice  in  1697,  died  1770).  The 
first  of  those  incursions  of  northern  barbarians,  which  eventually 
destroyed  the  Roman  Empire  and  culture,  occurred  in  the  year 
390,  B.  C.,  when  Brennus  came  down  upon  Italy  with  an  army 
of  70,000  Gauls.  His  success  was  uninterrupted  until  he  had 
driven  the  Romans  into  their  citadel  on  the  Capitoline  Hill  and 
besieged  it.  Here  he  remained  more  than  half  a  year,  baffled 
and  chafing  with  barbaric  impatience.  He  finally  agreed  to  with- 
draw and  go  back  to  his  northern  wilds  upon  the  payment  to  him 
of  one  thousand  pounds  weight  of  gold.  As  it  was  being 
weighed  out,  his  dishonesty  caused  a  remonstrance  on  the  part 
of  the  Romans,  whereupon  the  savage  king  threw  his  sword  into 
the  scale  and  bade  them  balance  that  too.  Never  was  there  a 
subject,  better  fitted  or  better  employed  to  bring  out  the  fierce 
and  untamed  passions  of  barbarism. 

THE  WATER  GIRL  OF  VENICE. 

By  S.  DELL  A  YALLENTINA.  As  there  is  no  fresh  water  in 
Venice,  except  what  is  brought  from  the  mainland  in  boats  or 
caught  from  the  rains,  great  care  is  taken  to  collect  and  filter, 
under  government  inspection,  all  the  water  that  falls  on  the 
roofs.  In  the  center  of  the  courts  of  all  the  large  public  build- 
ings are  cisterns  or  wells  for  this  purpose,  which  are  open  and 
free  to  all  during  certain  hours  of  the  day.  To  these  great 
numbers  of  girls  resort,  each  provided  with  her  two  pails  and 
cord  and  hook ;  and  for  each  carrying,  if  it  is  for  hire,  she  gets 
one  sou,  equal  to  one  cent. 

THE   BLUE   GROTTO. 

This  is  a  spacious  cave  under  the  steep  and  mountainous  shore 
of  the  island  of  Capri,  on  the  south  side  of  the  bay  of  Naples. 
It  is  on  a  level  with  the  water  and  the  entrance  is  only  large 
enough  to  admit  a  small  boat.  The  light  coming  in  through  the 
blue  water  gives  everything  inside  a  tinge  of  blue,  while  objects 
in  the  water  have  a  beautiful  silvery  appearance. 


THE    8TORIKS    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  279 

MARTYRDOM  OF  ANGELTJS  MERULA,   in   1557. 

By  BAREND  WYNVELD,  Professor  in  the  Academy  of  Fine 
Arts,  at  Amsterdam.  Philip  II  of  Spain,  a  cruel  and  bigoted 
supporter  of  the  Inquisition,  attempted  to  force  this  institution 
upon  the  free-spirited  Hollanders,  who  were  at  this  time  the  sub- 
jects of  Spain.  He  seems  to  have  had  the  idea  that  he  could 
crush  out  the  now  rising  reform  of  Calvinism,  by  hanging  or 
burning  all  heretics.  But  a  policy  which  might  be  effectual  witli 
the  Latin  race  would  not  and  did  not  succeed  with  the  Germanic. 
There  resulted  from  it  only  the  famous  Revolt  of  the  Nether- 
lands, which  established  their  independence,  and  religious  liberty 
in  the  north  of  Europe. 

One  of  the  first  victims  of  King  Philip's  fanaticism  was 
Angelus  Merula,  who  was  condemned  to  be  tortured  and  then 
burnt  alive.  When  brought,  lacerated  and  bleeding,  from  the 
rack  to  the  stake,  the  old  man  said  his  Jast  prayer  and  died. 
They  could  then  only  burn  the  lifeless  body — which  was  done  at 
Mons,  in  Belgium,  on  the  26th  of  July,  1557. 

GALILEO  BEFORE   THE   INQUISITION. 

By  T.  BANTI,  of  Florence.  Galileo  is  before  the  Tribunal  of 
Three  called  the  "  Inquisition,"  in  Rome,  on  the  22d  of  June, 
1633.  He  is  seventy  years  old,  and  has  been  summoned  from 
Florence  to  answer  to  the  charge  of  heresy,  and  is  here  compelled 
to  retract  and  renounce  the  theory  of  the  revolutions  of  the  earth 
on  its  axis  and  about  the  sun.  He  is  made  to  repeat  the  odious 
words,  "  I  abjure,  curse  and  detest  the  error  and  heresy  of  the 
motion  of  the  earth."  But,  rising  from  his  knees,  the  indignant 
old  man  could  not  help  saying,  though  in  an  undertone,  "E pur 
si  muovi"  '  yet  it  does  move.' 

MARRIAGE   OF  THE   SEA,   AT  VENICE. 

After  the  Canaletto  school  (about  1750).  From  the  earliest 
times  of  the  Venetian  Republic,  it  was  the  custom  to  celebrate 
the  espousal  of  Yenice  to  the  Adriatic,  on  ascension  day  of  each 
year.  With  the  greatest  possible  display  the  ruling  Doge  was 


280  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

taken  to  the  mouth  of  the  harbor  where  he  threw  a  ring  into  the 
sea.  Various  and  costly  state  galleys,  called  Bucentaurs,  had 
been  built  for  this  magnificent  ceremony.  The  last,  which  is 
represented  in  this  painting,  was  constructed  in  1725,  the  gilding 
alone  costing  more  than  $40,000.  It  was  destroyed  when  the 
French  took  possession  of  Venice  in  1797 ;  and  the  custom 
ceased  with  the  loss  of  its  two  hundred  oared  galley  and  at  the 
same  time  of  its  naval  power  and  independence. 

JOSEPH  AND  POTIPHAR'S  WIFE. 

By  Gio.  BILIVERTI  — (1576-1644).  It  is  called  the  Joseph  of 
Biliverti,  and  is  one  of  the  most  observed  paintings  of  the  Uffizi 
Gallery  in  Florence.  This  scene  reminds  us  that  there  are  two 
sides  to  every  story.  Joseph  said  :  "As  he  went  into  the  house, 
she  caught  him  by  his  garment,  and  he  left  the  garment  in  her 
hand  and  fled  and  got  him  out."  She  said  :  "  The  Hebrew  ser- 
vant came  in  unto  me  to  mock  me.  And  it  came  to  pass  as  I  lifted 
up  my  voice  and  cried,  that  he  left  his  garment  with  me  and  fled 
out."  The  woman's  story,  as  is  generally  the  case,  was  believed  ; 
and  Joseph  was  cast  into  prison.  It  would  be  more  orthodox  and 
no  more  than  fair  that  the  next  Bible  illustration  should  repre- 
sent Madam e's  side  of  the  question. 

UNE  REPETITION  DE  LA  TRAGEDIE  DE  MIRIAME  CHEZ 
LE  CARDINAL  DE  RICHELIEU. 

By  ADRIEN  MOREAU,  of  Paris.  Cardinal  Richelieu  was  the 
greatest  statesman  of  his  age,  perhaps  of  any  age.  He  aspired 
to  be  thought  equally  great  in  literature.  In  his  younger  days 
he  had  written  two  dramas,  really  quite  indifferent  productions, 
one  of  which  was  this  tragi-comedy  of  Miriam,  the  sister  of 
Moses.  It  was  the  great  desire  of  the  Cardinal  to  make  this 
piece  a  public  success.  He  had  put  it  on  the  stage  at  his  own 
expense,  but  success  did  not  come.  The  private  rehearsal  of  it 
before  the  aged  author  and  the  courtiers  and  princesses  who 
formed  his  court  is  one  of  the  most  suggestive  and  best  executed 
subjects  of  modern  painting. 


THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS.  281 

THE  FATHER  OF  PETRARCH  THROWING  HIS  BOOKS 
INTO  THE  FIRE. 

By  ACHILLE  LEONARDI,  of  Rome.  When  Petrarch,  the  Italian 
poet,  was  a  young  man  of  twenty  (in  the  year  1324),  all  his  atten- 
tion and  study  were  absorbed  in  classical  literature.  His  father, 
who  wanted  to  make  a  lawyer  of  him,  and  had  kept  him  at  much 
expense  in  law  schools  for  five  years,  became  disgusted  at  his 
little  progress  in  law  studies.  Going  to  his  room  one  day,  he 
wound  up  his  complaints  by  throwing  into  the  fire  Petrarch's 
precious  manuscripts  of  Cicero,  Virgil,  and  the  others.  But  the 
despair  and  the  tears  of  the  young  student  at  this  martyrdom  of 
his  authors,  were  so  touching  that  the  father  relented  and 
snatched  the  books  from  the  flames,  telling  his  son  to  go  on  read- 
ing his  Latin.  So  a  genius  was  saved  to  the  world,  and  there 
was  one  less  poor  lawyer  in  it. 

SAPPHO. 

By  EDWARD  RICHTER,  of  Paris.  The  fair  subject  of  this  paint- 
ing is  the  loveliest  character  in  classic  history.  Six  hundred  years 
before  Christ,  in  the  very  earliest  dawn  of  literature,  a  young 
Greek  girl,  from  the  Island  of  Lesbos,  presented  herself  before 
the  rude  warrior  clans  of  Greece,  overflowing  with  song  and 
sweetest  poetry.  She  captivated  all  hearts  with  her  minstrelsy 
and  her  modest  virtues.  She  was  revered  as  a  goddess.  Her 
lovely  face  was  stamped  on  the  ancient  coins,  with  the  inscrip- 
tion, "The  violet-crowned,  the  pure,  and  sweetly  smiling  Sappho." 

SPECKBACHER  AND   HIS  SON. 

This  is  a  reproduction  of  the  great  masterpiece  of  FRANZ 
DEFREGGER  in  the  National  Museum  of  Innspruck.  The  story 
of  the  scene  is  this :  In  the  year  1809  happened  the  famous  up- 
rising of  the  Tyrolese  under  Andreas  Hofer  against  the  French 
and  Bavarians  whom  Napoleon  had  quartered  upon  them.  The 
women  fought  by  the  side  of  the  men,  and  there  was  not  a  hand 
that  held  back.  They  drove  out  their  oppressors,  successively 
routed  all  the  armies  that  the  great  invader  could  send  against 


282  THE    STORIES    OF    NOTED    PAINTINGS. 

them,  and  were  only  beaten  in  the  end  by  national  treaties.  It 
was  at  the  very  commencement  of  this  patriotic  outburst  that 
the  young  son  of  Speckbacher,  one  of  the  prominent  leaders, 
joined  a  company  of  sharpshooters  against  his  father's  will.  He 
seems  very  soon  to  have  had  the  rare  fortune  to  shoot  an  eagle 
on  the  wing,  which,  by  an  old  custom  of  these  mountaineers, 
made  him  the  "  king  of  the  shooters,"  and  gave  him  a  right  to 
promotion  which  even  his  father  could  not  gainsay.  With  the 
eagle's  plumes  as  the  trophies  of  the  exploit,  he  is  conducted  by 
his  company  into  the  presence  of  his  father  and  the  other  leaders, 
at  the  Boar's  Inn  of  St.  Johann.  We  know  that  the  brave 
pleading  face  of  that  boy  obtained  the  pardon  he  sought,  for  his 
name  is  on  many  pages  of  the  stirring  history  of  the  great  up- 
rising of  the  Tyrol. 

PROCESS  OF  PORCELAIN  PAINTING. 

The  plates  of  Porcelain  are  made  of  the  finest  and  purest 
clays  and  materials  of  stoneware,  and  are  burned  for  one  or  two 
days  in  the  highest  white  heat.  To  fill  the  pores  and  to  form 
a  glaze  on  the  surface,  a  paste  made  chiefly  of  powdered  quartz 
and  feldspar  is  fused  or  melted  on  them  by  a  heat  a  little  less 
than  that  originally  used.  The  paints  are  made  of  a  paste  of 
powdered  glass,  variously  colored  by  metallic  oxides,  which  fuses 
at  a  still  lower  heat.  The  picture  is  then  painted  on  the  plates 
(if  a  large  one,  in  successive  parts),  and  subjected  to  a  heat  suffi- 
cient to  melt  the  glass  of  the  paints.  If  a  porcelain  plate  passes 
all  these  ordeals  without  fracture  or  imperfection,  it  is  the  most 
valuable  and  enduring,  as  well  as  the  most  beautiful  of  paintings. 


A   TRIP   TO   MEXICO/ 


It  was  1113-  mischance  to  reach  Yera  Cruz  during  one  of  the 
"northers,"  which  are  the  great  storm  winds  of  the  western 
coast  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  They  are  the  north-east  trade 
winds,  deflected  into  north  winds,  and  increased  in  their  vio- 
lence by  the  lofty  chain  of  the  Cordilleras,  which  rises  but  a 
short  distance  inland,  and  presents  an  effectual  barrier  to  the 
further  western  course  of  air-currents  seeking  the  equator  from 
the  north-east.  The  northers  are  prevalent  only  during  the 
winter  half  of  the  year;  but  while  they  are  blowing  there  is  no 
communication  with  any  of  the  ports  on  this  side  of  Mexico; 
for  there  are  no  harbors  nor  any  artificial  protections  against 
their  violence. 

Our  steamer  came  to  anchor  under  the  lee  of  the  island  and 
fortress  of  San  Juan  d'Uloa ;  and  there  we  lay,  within  full  view 
of  all  that  was  passing  on  the  shore,  and  of  the  breakers  dashing 
over  the  piers,  for  twenty-four  hours,  before  the  small  boats 
could  venture  to  come  out  to  take  us  to  land.  This  gave  us 
ample  time  and  occasion  to  meditate  on  the  inefficiency  of  this 
people  who  could  submit  to  such  a  great  drawback  and  danger 
to  an  important  commerce  during  four  hundred  years.  When 
we  did  eventually  land  the  next  day,  there  were  few  who  did  not 
get  a  good  wetting  in  the  breakers  as  their  welcome  to  the  land 
of  the  tropics. 

As  there  is  but  little  of  interest  in  Vera  Cruz,  the  most  of  our 
passengers  took  the  cars  late  the  same  night  for  the  City  of 
Mexico,  250  miles  back  in  the  interior.  For  a  few  miles  the 


*  Written  in  1876,  and  read  before  several  Literary  Societies. 


284  A   TRIP   TO    MEXICO. 

railway  passes  through  the  sandy  regions  that  line  the  coast. 
Then  for  a  hundred  miles,  gradually  rising,  we  pass  through 
regions  of  the  most  luxuriant  tropical  vegetation — palm  and 
cocoa-nut  trees,  mangoes  and  mamey,  guava  and  aguacate,  orange 
and  coffee  plantations,  banana  and  pine-apple  fields,  fruits  and 
flowers  in  bewildering  profusion  and  rankness  of  growth.  Ar- 
rived at  Orizaba,  one  of  the  great  fruit  centers  and  delightful 
stopping  places  of  this  route,  we  are  3,000  feet  above  the  sea. 
The  snow-capped  extinct  volcano  of  the  same  name  rises  up  on 
our  right  to  a  height  of  over  17,000  feet.  After  leaving  Orizaba 
and  skirting  around  the  grand  old  peak  that  blocks  our  way,  we 
commence  to  ascend  the  valley  of  Maltrata.  The  ascent  is  here 
so  steep  that  the  railway  is  laid  in  a  zigzag  course,  continually 
passing  from  one  side  to  the  other  of  the  valley,  which  it  follows 
up  to  the  very  closing  in  of  its  mountainous  walls.  Then  the 
track  doubles  on  itself,  turns  short  about  and  comes  back,  climb- 
ing the  precipitous  side  of  the  very  valley  we  have  been  ascend- 
ing. There  is  here  one  of  the  most  remarkable  instances  of 
railway  engineering  in  the  world.  To  lay  a  railroad  track,  with  a 
uniform  ascent  of  four  feet  in  the  hundred,  against  the  steep 
craggy  sides  of  a  mountain  range,  to  tunnel  its  projecting  cliffs, 
to  span  its  gorges  with  curving  iron  bridges,  to  go  in  and  out  of 
all  its  defiles,  winding  and  coiling  in  that  slow  course  to  the  dizzy 
height  of  9,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  is  one  of  those 
astounding  feats  of  skill  and  enterprise  which  only  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  race  can  accomplish.  England  built  this  road,  commenced 
in  1852,  and  finished  in  1872. 

After  climbing  up  the  mountain  side  as  we  have  described, 
through  a  distance  of  ten  miles  or  more,  we  can  still  see  from 
the  car  window,  3,000  feet  beneath  us,  the  serpentine  track  of 
the  road  up  the  valley  over  which  we  came  two  hours  before. 
But  in  mounting  thus  ever  upward  we  have  passed  out  of  the 
tropical  climate  and  vegetation,  into  the  regions  of  cloud  and 
wind,  of  the  pine  and  the  birch  tree.  We  are  in  another  world. 
They  call  it  "  tierra  f ria  "—the  cold  land. 

The  grade  of  this  road  up  the  mountain,  four  per  cent,  is  the 
steepest  of  any  other  simple  traction  road,  except  a  short  one  in 


A    TKIP    TO    MEXICO.  285 

Peru  up  the  Andes,  which  is  in  some  places  five  per  cent.  It  is 
very  near  the  limit  practicable  for  the  passage  of  ordinary  trains 
by  simple  traction.  And  even  for  this,  it  is  necessary  to  make 
use  of  a  specially  constructed  engine,  known  as  the  Fairleigh  lo- 
comotive. It  is  a  long  boiler,  more  than  double  the  usual  length, 
with  a  smoke  stack  at  each  end,  and  the  fire  in  the  middle. 
There  are  eight  drive  wheels,  and  the  weight  of  the  huge  machine 
is  seventy  tons.  For  such  heavy  rolling  gear  the  track  and  the 
bridges  must  necessarily  be  of  the  strongest  and  most  substantial 
kind.  One  is  not  surprised  then  to  learn  that  this  250  miles  of 
railway  cost  over  thirty  million  dollars,  and  that  it  paid  the  Eng- 
lish stockholders  no  dividend  whatever.  This,  with  the  millions 
of  dollars  sunk  in  Mexican  bonds  and  in  silver  mines,  must  make 
some  sorrowful  pages  in  the  ledgers  of  our  thrifty  cousins. 
.  But  we  must  come  back  to  our  journey.  At  Boca  del  Monte, 
and  about  half  way  over  the  whole  distance,  we  suddenly  emerge 
from  the  mountains  and  come  out  on  the  great  Mexican  plateau, 
about  9,000  feet  above  the  sea.  From  this  point  down  into  the 
valley  of  Mexico,  which  has  an  elevation  of  7,500  feet,  is  a  long 
dusty  and  rather  uninteresting  ride.  It  is  the  dry  season.  There 
have  been  no  rains  for  four  or  five  months  ;  and  the  whole  coun- 
try is  parched  and  dried  up.  The  climate  of  these  uplands  is 
only  divided  by  wet  and  dry  portions  of  the  year.  The  temper- 
ature does  not  materially  vary.  Wherever  there  is  water  for 
irrigation,  fruits,  vegetables  and  harvests  can  be  had  in  any 
season  that  may  be  desired. 

The  last  sixty  miles  of  the  road  is  through  almost  continuous 
haciendas,  or  plantations,  of  maguey.  This  is  the  plant  from 
which  the  Mexicans  obtain  their  intoxicating  drink,  called  pulque. 
The  southern  races  of  America,  as  well  as  of  Europe,  devote  I 
think  half  of  their  lands  and  labor  to  the  production  of  what 
they  drink.  The  maguey  is  a  species  of  aloes.  The  exotic  cen- 
tury-plant is  very  similar  if  not  identical  with  it.  But  in  its 
native  habitat,  and  in  favorable  locations,  it  has  an  enormous  and 
magnificent  growth.  It  throws  out  its  thick  and  spike  tipped 
leaves  ten  and  twelve  feet  long.  When  allowed  to  do  so,  it 
shoots  up,  after  ten  or  fifteen  years  of  growth,  a  straight  central 


286  A   TEIP   TO    MEXICO. 

stem  forty  to  fifty  feet  high,  forming  a  perfect  tree  of  magnifi- 
cent flowers.  But  when  cultivated  for  pulque,  the  bud  of  this 
stem  must  be  cut  off  just  at  the  time  of  its  starting.  The  cut  is 
hollowed  out  in  dish-shape,  and  all  the  sap,  containing  the  accu- 
mulated nutriment  and  life  of  the  plant,  flows  into  this  recepta- 
cle, from  which  it  is  drawn  out  and  put  into  goat  or  hog  skins. 
One  thrifty  plant  will  furnish  three  or  four  hundred  gallons  of 
this  juice,  which  in  a  few  days  after  being  gathered  ferments  and 
becomes,  without  further  care  or  process,  the  great  drink  of  the 
country.  To  uneducated  tastes  it  is  a  bad  smelling,  bad 
tasting,  sour-milky,  and  miserable  apology  for  a  beverage.  But 
it  is  consumed  in  immense  quantities  by  the  Indians  and  lower 
classes.  There  is  a  daily  train  of  cars  especially  for  its  transpor- 
tation to  the  city  called  the  pulque  train.  The  Iturbe  family  of 
Mexico  have  one  hacienda  of  maguey,  for  the  rent  of  which  they 
are  paid  $150  a  day,  over  $50,000  a  year.  It  is  to  me  almost 
inconceivable  where  all  the  money  and  demand  for  this  intoxica- 
ting product  come  from. 

Before  arriving  at  our  journey's  end,  the  road  skirts  around 
the  northern  edge  of  lake  Tezcuco,  in  which  the  city  of  Mexico 
was  said  originally  to  have  been  built,  but  from  which  it  is  now 
distant  at  least  two  miles.  It  is  a  salt  lake,  as  are  all  seas  and 
lakes  from  which  there  are  no  outlets.  Evaporation  carries  off 
all  the  surplus  of  water,  leaving  always  the  minute  traces  of 
mineral  matter  brought  down  by  the  inlet  streams;  and  the 
accumulations  of  ages  make  the  briny  solutions  of  all  un- 
drained  bodies  of  water.  The  shallow  margins  of  this  lake"  are 
divided  off  into  beds  by  low  embankments,  and  in  the  rainy  sea- 
son the  salt  water  flows  into  them.  When  the  lake  falls  in  the 
dry  season,  there  remain  in  them  enclosed  bodies  of  salt  water, 
which  drying  leave  a  crust  of  salt  on  the  surface.  This  is  care- 
fully scraped  up,  taken  away,  and  cleaned  or  re-evaporated.  From 
thence  comes  the  salt  supply  of  this  country,  both  for  domestic 
purposes  and  for  a  certain  process  in  the  refining  of  silver  ore. 

We  are  now  entering  the  great  Capitol  of  the  Republic,  a  city 
of  250,000  inhabitants,  the  oldest  and  most  interesting  city  on 
the  American  continent.  It  was  first  seen  by  white  men  twenty- 


A    TRIP   TO    MEXICO.  287 

seven  years  after  the  discovery  of  the  New  World  by  Columbus. 
A  band  of  Spanish  adventurers,  scarcely  numbering  five  hundred, 
with  a  daring  and  prowess  unequaled  in  the  world's  history,  had 
fought  its  way  over  the  mountains  to  the  causeways  of  this  lake 
city,  then  two  hundred  years  old,  peopled  by  half  a  million 
Aztecs,  and  governed  by  the  richest  and  most  powerful  monarch 
of  the  Indian  Hemisphere.  Cortez  entered  and  took  up  his 
residence  in  this  hostile  city  without  the  slightest  hesitation.  He 
shortly  after  seized  the  person  of  Montezurna,  threw  down  the 
heathen  idols  and  elevated  the  Catholic,  and  commenced  a  most 
desperate  struggle  against  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  the 
natives,  determined  to  defend  their  homes  and  their  religion. 
Once  he  was  driven  out  with  fearful  loss,  on  that  memorable 
"  noche  triste,"  the  gloomy  night ;  and  he  gathered  the  remnants 
of  his  little  band,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  battered  and 
beaten  soldiers,  under  a  huge  cypress  tree,  which  still  stands, 
protected  and  venerated,  on  the  northern  outskirts  of  the  city. 
But  after  a  few  months,  Cortez  returned  again  to  the  charge ; 
and  then  he  destroyed  and  leveled  the  city  as  fast  as  he  conquered 
it.  Three-fourths  of  it  were  thus  pulled  down  and  thrown  into 
the  canals,  before  the  remnant  submitted  and  the  Spaniards  were 
the  acknowledged  masters  of  Mexico. 

On  this  site  was  laid  out  and  built  the  present  city,  with  its 
rectangular  streets  and  its  solid  stone  buildings.  The  houses,  as 
in  many  cities  of  Europe,  are  constructed  with  courts,  which  are 
entered  from  the  street  through  wide  passage  ways,  protected  by 
strong  and  massive  doors.  The  home  life  is  almost  entirely  in 
these  open  courts,  which  are  surrounded  by  balconies  and  cor- 
ridors. 

The  city  of  Mexico  is  so  nearly  on  the  level  of  lake  Tezcuco 
that  it  can  have  no  efficient  drainage.  In  fact  most  of  the  streets 
have  only  surface  drains,  and  none  have  them  more  than  from 
one  to  two  feet  below  the  surface.  Mexico  would  be  an  exceed- 
ingly unhealthy  city  if  it  were  not  for  the  rarity  and  excessive 
dryness  of  the  atmosphere.  There  can  be  no  malarious  decay, 
for  nothing  remains  moist.  As  it  is,  the  main  diseases  are  those 
which  arise  from  imperfect  oxygenation  of  the  blood,  bilious  and 


288  A    TRIP    TO   MEXICO. 

dropsical  diseases.  From  the  great  altitude  of  this  country,  a 
rnile  and  a  half  above  the  sea-level,  the  air  is  very  light,  the 
mercury  in  the  barometer  standing  at  about  23  inches,  and  for 
those  unaccustomed  to  the  situation,  it  is  difficult  to  breathe,  or 
at  least  to  get  air  enough  into  the  lungs.  One  draws  many  a 
long  breath;  and  mounting  the  long  flights  to  the  "first  floor," 
one  lias  often  hard  work  to  get  the  breathing  function  into  com- 
fortable working  order  again.  This  is  no  climate  for  consump- 
tives. Whoever  has  not  a  full  and  free  expansion  of  the  lungs 
will  very  soon  get  out  of  Mexico.  I  heard  men  say  there  was  no 
satisfaction  up  there  in  a  good  "  whisky  straight,"  or  any  other 
of  the  strong  Americanisms.  The  animal  functions  cannot  keep 
up  to  the  tune  of  such  lively  stimulants. 

But  what  seemed  strangest  about  this  city,  was  its  inhabitants. 
It  seemed  as  if  we  had  been  landed  in  a  great  overgrown  Indian 
village.  Squaws  with  their  pappooses,  and  half-naked,  black- 
maned  urchins  filled  all  the  streets  and  every  opening  out  of 
them.  There  was  every  shade  of  color,  from  the  copper  through 
all  the  bronzes  to  the  dirty  lead  color.  But  all  was  Indian,  thor- 
oughly Indian.  If  we  did  not  know  what  toned  down  the  color, 
we  should  certainly  think  that  these  mongrel  and  parti-colored 
swarms  wrere  the  genuine  aborigines.  This  people  are  much 
smaller  than  our  northern  Indians,  but  they  have  the  same  feat- 
ures and  motions  and  habits.  They  carry  their  burdens  on  their 
backs  with  a  band  around  their  foreheads.  They  have  the  regu- 
lar Indian  lope  when  they  travel.  When  at  rest  they  squat  on 
the  ground,  and  can  sit  there  an  indefinite  time.  The  females 
carry  the  unfailing  baby  slung  in  a  shawl  on  their  backs ;  or  if 
there  are  two  of  them,  or  a  burden  and  a  baby,  the  little  one  is 
in  front  and  the  other  behind,  but  both  in  the  folds  of  the  same 
long  shawl. 

The  Indians  are  the  traders  in  cheap  and  fancy  things.  The 
markets,  the  street  corners,  and  'the  portalis  are  crowded  with 
their  little  stands,  exposing  for  sale  their  fruits  or  their  confec- 
tions, their  tasteful  handiwork  or  their  fanciful  wares.  Every 
morning,  on  the  shady  side  of  some  of  the  principal  streets, 
many  native  girls  who  have  brought  in  their  flowers  from  the 


A   TRIP    TO    MEXICO.  289 

country,  sit  on  the  curb  stones,  making  up  bouquets.  They 
learned  the  art  from  the  French  who  came  over  with  Maximilian, 
and  now  there  is  not  in  any  capitol  of  the  world  such  a  display 
and  profusion  of  flowers  as  are  offered  by  these  Indian  girls  in 
the  streets  of  Mexico.  In  a  bouquet  as  large  as  one's  two  hands, 
that  I  have  bought  for  a  shilling,  I  have  counted  over  fifty  white 
roses,  with  mixture  of  orange  blossoms,  carnelias,  and  I  do  not 
know  what  not. 

At  almost  every  turn  some  dirty  half-breed  will  hold  out  to 
you  a  handful  of  lottery  tickets  for  sale.  There  are  about  a 
thousand  licensed  venders  of  these  chance  schemes,  mostly  got- 
ten up  for  the  benefit  of  the  churches.  The  continual  cry  of 
"quartro  mil  pesos,"  "vente  mil  pesos" — four,  twenty,  thousand 
dollars — becomes  tiresome  and  annoying  in  the  extreme.  They 
come  to  your  room,  to  your  eating  table,  everywhere,  and  cannot 
understand  that  you  are  not  tempted  by  such  splendid  chances. 

In  the  central  portion  of  the  city,  notably  between  the  Plaza 
and  the  Alameda,  the  two  places  of  resort  and  of  promenade,  are 
found  a  few  pure  whites.  The  Spanish  Creoles — that  is,  those 
of  Spanish  descent  and  born  in  the  country — some  Germans, 
with  a  few  English  and  French,  compose  the  white  population, 
which  I  do  not  think  would  amount  all  told  to  10,000.  There 
are  no  American  residents  except  missionaries  and  diplomatic 
officers. 

Of  the  few  large  fortunes  remaining  in  Mexico,  a  small  num- 
ber took  their  origin  from  the  silver  mines  in  times  past ;  though 
these  are  hardly  paying  expenses  now.  But  the  greater  number 
of  fortunes  have  come  from  the  large  haciendas  scattered  here 
and  there  over  the  country.  The  agricultural  resources  of  the 
Republic  are  in  reality  far  greater  than  the  mineral,  but  have 
never  been  turned  to  any  account  beyond  supplying  home  neces- 
sities. Corn  and  wheat  can  be  raised  there  more  cheaply  than  in 
any  country  I  know  of.  Yet  when  I  was  there  corn  was  worth 
a  dollar  and  a  half,  and  wheat  two  dollars  and  a  quarter,  a  bushel. 
Cotton  is  imported  from  the  United  States,  in  part  to  supply  a 
few  factories  that  have  started  up  near  some  of  the  cities.  Even 
potatoes  have  been  brought  from  the  States  to  the  country  which 


290  A    TRIP    TO    MEXICO. 

has  the  credit  of  first  furnishing  to  the  world  this  most  impor- 
tant food  staple. 

There  is  nothing  in  all  the  line  of  vegetables,  fruits,  grains, 
luxuries  or  staples,  that  cannot  be  raised  somewhere  in  the  Mex- 
ican States  in  the  greatest  abundance  and  cheapness.  And  I  have 
often  asked  myself  if,  in  view  of  all  these  natural  advantages, 
this  country  would  be  any  benefit  to  the  United  States,  should 
the  opportunity  ever  be  offered  of  acquiring  it.  I  have  always 
decided  that  it  would  not  be.  There  is  not  a  land,  however  rich 
and  prolific  it  may  be,  that  is  worth  the  having,  if  it  is  encum- 
bered with  a  Spanish  speaking  people.  It  is  the  same  with  Cuba 
as  with  Mexico.  Either  one  of  these  would  prove  to  be  the 
source  of  never-ending  jealousies,  intolerance,  and  insubordina- 
tion, until  the  native  element  was  exterminated,  or  merged  into 
something  better.  And  these,  as  we  know,  are  long  and  trying 
ordeals  to  go  through. 

Old  travelers  say,  if  you  want  to  travel  for  comfort  or  pleasure, 
never  go  where  they  speak  the  Spanish  language.  There  are 
many  reasons  for  this,  and  one  of  them  is  that  you  cannot  trust 
that  "  Si,  Sifior  "  as  you  can  the  "  Yes,  Sir."  There  is  always  in 
these  countries  a  feeling  of  insecurity  of  person  and  of  property, 
an  uneasy  doubt  as  to  just  how  long  you  will  be  able  to  hold 
your  own.  Quiet  and  order  are  maintained  within  the  city  limits 
of  Mexico,  but  it  is  at  the  cost  of  a  large  and  military  police. 
Every  night,  from  sundown  to  sunrise,  at  every  street  crossing, 
there  is  a  policeman  fully  armed  with  a  musket  and  cutlass.  But 
whenever  our  party  made  excursions  into  the  country  we  took 
with  us  nothing  more  valuable  than  a  few  silver  mounted  pistols. 
And  we  should  probably  have  given  these  up  to  any  strangers  we 
had  met  in  a  lonely  part  of  the  way. 

It  was  my  misfortune  to  visit  Mexico  during  the  prevalence  of 
one  of  its  periodic  revolutions.*  This  word  sounds  terrible,  and 
has  a  pretty  serious  meaning  to  us.  But  .there  it  is  only  the 
usual  process  of  a  change  of  administration.  It  is  the  party  of 
the  outs  trying  to  get  in,  and  doing  it  in  the  only  way  it  can  be 
done  in  Mexico,  that  is  by  fighting.  Popular  suffrage  is  there 

*  In  the  Spring  of  1876. 


A    TRIP    TO    MEXICO.  291 

the  merest  farce.  In  most  places  no  one  goes  to  the  polls  to  vote  ; 
but  whichever  party  has  military  control  of  a  district,  makes  a 
list,  or  a  pretended  list,  of  the  voters  in  it,  and  reports  them  as 
having  voted  to  a  man  for  its  candidates.  So  an  administration, 
if  unopposed  by  armed  force,  has  it  in  its  power  to  perpetuate 
itself  indefinitely.  I  do  not  think  there  were  any  principles  in- 
volved in  the  contest  that  was  then  waging.  Both  leaders  were 
Catholics,  and  neither  professed  or  promulgated  any  ideas  of 
reform  or  economy  or  schemes  of  public  welfare.  Porfirio  Diaz, 
the  instigator  of  the  revolt,  is  an  Indian,  and  perhaps  carried  the 
sympathies  of  the  lower  classes.  While  Lerdo,  the  President  of 
the  Republic,  being  of  Spanish  descent  and  a  man  of  wealth,  had 
a  greater  insight  and  interest  in  government  affairs. 

The  Mexican  Congress  assembled  while  I  was  there,  and  was 
opened  by  a  speech  from  President  Lerdo.  He  had  been  solicited 
by  all  the  members  to  declare  in  his  opening  that  he  would  not 
be  a  candidate  for  re-election.  It  was  regarded  that  this  would 
put  an  end  to  the  revolution  and  pacify  the  country.  But  Lerdo 
disappointed  any  such  expectations.  He  claimed  to  be  able  to 
put  down  all  opposition,  that  the  revolters  were  nothing  but  the 
old  bands  of  robbers  and  offenders  against  the  peace  and  order  of 
the  country,  and  that  he  should  not  yield  to  them.  I  heard  it 
said  on  that  occasion  that  his  obstinacy  had  made  him  a  doomed 
man.  Mexico  has  already  had,  since  her  independence  in  1821, 
thirty-six  successful  revolutions.  And  now  we  may  count  the 
number  increased  by  one  more ;  for  to-day  the  proud  and  weal- 
thy Lerdo  is  an  exile ;  and  Diaz,  the  soldier  of  fortune,  is 
exacting  the  tribute  of  his  success  on  tax  ridden  Mexico. 

Our  nearest  neighbor,  the  Mexican  Republic,  is  notoriously  the 
poorest  of  nations.  With  all  her  wealth  of  mines  and  silver 
veins,  with  her  untold  capacity  for  the  production  of  every  com- 
modity of  commerce,  she  could  not  to-day  sell  her  bonds  for  ten 
cents  on  the  dollar.  She  has  no  gold,  no  exchange,  no  credit. 
Her  wealthy  men  can  no  longer  get  their  wealth  out  of  the 
country.  There  is  absolutely  nothing  into  which  they  can  turn 
it,  to  make  it  available  in  London  or  New  York.  A  few  words 
on  the  causes  which  have  led  to  this  anomalous  state  of  things 
may  not  be  uninteresting. 


292  A   TRIP    TO   MEXICO. 

In  the  first  place,  no  European  settlers  ever  went  to  Mexico 
with  the  intention  of  making  a  permanent  home  and  living 
there.  Spaniard,  German,  French  and  English,  all  went  there  to 
make  a  fortune  and  then  return  to  Europe  to  enjoy  it.  For.  three 
hundred  years  the  country  was  ruled  by  Viceroys  from  Spain, 
who  succeeded  each  other  on  an  average  every  four  years,  that 
time  being  considered  long  enough  for  each  to  reap  an  ill-gotten 
harvest  and  to  get  back  to  his  home  land  again.  Thus  from  the 
very  outset  this  ill-fated  country  has  been  reaped  and  raked  and 
gleaned  to  make  the  wealth  and  fortunes  of  foreigners.  What 
was  left  by  grasping  tradesmen  and  rapacious  rulers,  was  gathered 
up  by  swarms  of  priests,  and  either  sent  back  to  the  order  at 
home  in  payment  for  their  appointment,  or  expended  in  the  erec- 
tion and  costly  adornment  of  myriads  of  monasteries  and  cathe- 
drals. But  these  add  nothing  to  the  wealth  of  nations,  and  the 
gains  that  go  abroad  make  no  home  improvements.  Thus  it  has 
come  that  a  soil  once  rich  and  fertile,  that  easily  sustained  the 
swarming  workers  of  ancient  times,  is  now  waste,  without  pre- 
tense of  cultivation  on  three-fourths  of  it.  The  richest  mineral 
veins  and  surface  leads  have  been  worked  and  wasted  out,  till 
how,  under  crude  and  slovenly  processes  of  refining,  the  silver 
mines  do  not  pay  expenses. 

The  native  Indians,  who  have  had  among  them  in  times  past 
some  men  of  remarkable  sense  and  judgment,  saw  this  desolation 
coming  upon  their  country,  over  half  a  century  ago.  They 
attributed  it  to  the  rule  of  the  Spaniards ;  and  in  1821  they  suc- 
ceeded, as  we  had  done,  after  a  long  and  trying  struggle,  in 
throwing  off  the  foreign  yoke.  But  prosperity  did  not  come. 
It  was  not  sought  from  the  only  source  whence  it  can  come — from 
mother  Earth.  Within  three  or  four  years  after  their  indepen- 
dence, they  had  borrowed  in  London  about  forty  million  dollars. 
This  kept  them  afloat  some  twelve  years,  when  the  mania  for 
mining  speculations  broke  out  in  England.  Again  the  infatuated 
English  invested  perhaps  another  forty  millions  in  Mexican  silver 
mines,  the  money  from  which  investments  kept  things  moving 
there  till  our  southern  aristocracy  wanted  more  slave  territory, 
and  we  had  to  go  over  and  fight  Mexico  for  it.  This  caused  us 


A   TRIP    TO    MEXICO.  293 

to  expend  in  that  country,  in  various  ways,  some  thirty  millions ; 
all  of  which  was  a  perfect  god-send  to  this  impoverished  people. 
Then  France  wanted  a  hand  in  the  great  poor-house,  and  sent 
Maximilian  there,  and  with  him  a  score  or  more  of  millions.  All 
this  had  been  gleaned  up  and  sent  away,  when  the  English  took 
it  in  their  heads  to  build  that  splendid  railway  up  the  mountains, 
and  poured  thirty  million  dollars  into  the  needy  country  that 
seems  no  longer  to  give  back  anything.  If  here  are  not  lessons 
enough  for  us  to  let  this  border  land  of  ours  alone,  I  do  not 
know  what  lessons  are. 

I  happened  to  take  with  me  as  a  kind  of  guide  book,  Robert 
A.  Wilson's  Travels  in  Mexico.  Now  the  late  Judge  Wilson  of 
California  was  the  pioneer  and  authority  of  those  who  in  late 
years  have  been  attempting  to  throw  discredit  on  the  Spanish 
accounts  of  the  numbers  and  power  of  the  ancient  Aztecs,  and 
the  story  of  their  conquest  which  our  own  Prescott  has  woven 
into  such  a  delightful  romance  of  history.  The  natural  mind 
however  revolts  from  having  its  cherished  beliefs  attacked.  The 
confirmed  skeptic  in  history  is  the  same  unlovely  being  with  the 
open-mouthed  skeptic  in  religion.  Who  has  any  sympathy  with 
the  man  who  tried  to  make  out  that  Shakspeare  never  existed,  or 
that  old  Homer  was  a  myth  ?  The  very  thrill  of  joy  that  went 
through  the  land  when  it  was  announced  that  the  devoted  and 
intrepid  Schliemann  had  found  at  Mycena  an  Aladin's  cave  of 
Homeric  heroes  and  treasures  and  evidences,  ought  to  be  a  sig- 
nificant warning  to  all  misbelievers  and  belittlers  of  history.  So 
was  I  predisposed,  both  by  the  instincts  of  a  faithful  mind  and 
the  love  of  the  cherished  idols  of  popular  belief,  to  find  all  the 
fault  I  could  with  these  latter  day  pessimists. 

And  first,  in  regard  to  the  reported  numbers  of  the  ancient 
Aztecs,  which  Wilson  says  must  be  taken  at  about  one-tenth  of 
those  stated,  because  the  country  could  not  have  sustained  them 
all,  I  really  could  see  no  occasion  to  di^de  them  at  all.  It  may 
well  be  that  in  those  days  of  the  unexhausted  fertility  of  a  vol- 
canic soil,  and  the  easy  abundance  of  an  unvarying  semi-tropical 
climate,  it  may  be,  I  say,  that  every  Indian  soul  was  there  that 
was  numbered.  It  takes  almost  nothing  to  keep  alive  those  di- 


294  A    TRIP    TO   MEXICO. 

minutive  and  lowly  organized  beings.  They  live  now  almost 
altogether  on  black  beans,  which  can  be  produced  in  unlimited 
quantities.  And  one  may  see  these  natives  any  day  in  Mexico, 
that  have  come  in  from  long  distances  to  sell  a  few  cents  worth 
of  produce  or  of  wares,  making  their  dinner  on  a  joint  of  sugar 
cane  which  they  have  brought  with  them.  The  females  are  mar- 
riageable at  an  exceedingly  early  age — I  was  told  at  a  dozen 
years — and  they  certainly  multiply  beyond  any  of  the  ratios  of 
Malthus  or  of  mathematics.  From  the  large  proportion  of  old 
and  shriveled  women  that  are  met  with  there,  one  might  almost 
believe  what  is  said  of  them,  that  they  never  die,  but  dry  up  and 
blow  away.  I  certainly  never  saw  anyone  who  had  ever  seen  an 
Indian's  grave.  Unquestionably  then,  a  few  score  good  successive 
bean  seasons  might  easily  have  brought  out  Aztecs  enough  to  fill 
the  roll  of  the  most  extravagant  historian. 

Wilson  says,  because  he  could  not  find  heaps  of  ruins  and 
building  materials  on  the  sites  of  the  populous  Indian  cities 
spoken  of  by  Cortez,  he  does  not  believe  they  ever  existed,  nor 
the  stone  built  palaces  and  teocallis.  Now  nothing  is  more  cer- 
tain than  that  the  Aztecs  were  skillful  and  extensive  workers  in 
stone.  The  relics  of  their  quaint  and  massive  stone  carvings  lie 
neglected  everywhere  in  city  and  in  country.  They  have  been 
so  abundant  in  times  past  that  the  Mexicans  of  to-day  do  not  be- 
gin to  realize  the  riches  they  have  in  the  unique  remains  of  Aztec 
culture.  I  have  seen  a  sphinx-head  carving  used  for  a  hitching 
block  on  a  country  road.  And  in  a  court-yard  of  the  Govern- 
ment House  they  feed  a  peacock  on  the  top  of  the  sacrificial 
altar  of  the  great  god  Mexitli.  But  go  into  the  undisturbed 
wildernesses  of  southern  Mexico,  to  Uxrnal,  Palenque,  and  Mitlan, 
and  there  you  will  find  the  most  remarkable  ruins  in  the  world, 
immense  structures,  palaces  and  temples,  built  of  hewn  stone, 
cemented  with  mortar,  covering  acres,  and  scattered  over  miles 
of  territory,  with  columns,  facades  and  frontings,  sculptured  and 
ornamented  as  no  other  ancient  remains  have  ever  been  found — 
and  all  this  the  work  of  Mexican  Indians  before  the  use  and 
knowledge  of  iron  tools.  Is  it  at  all  probable  then  that  the 
Aztecs,  alone  of  those  semi-civilized  races,  lived  in  mud  houses, 
and  served  their  proud  Montezumas  in  palaces  of  adobe  ? 


A    TRIP    TO    MEXICO.  295 

Cortez,  in  his  final  capture  of  the  city  of  Mexico,  was  obliged 
to  take  it  as  it  were  by  inches,  and  to  destroy  and  level  every- 
thing as  far  and  as  fast  as  he  went,  until  almost  the  entire  city 
had  disappeared.  Then  in  the  rebuilding,  which  was  immedi- 
ately commenced  and  carried  on  in  the  most  substantial  manner, 
it  may  well  be  that  all  the  building  materials  accumulated  by  the 
Indians  were  used  up  in  the  new  structures.  I  do  not  myself 
think  it  at  all  strange  that  the  visible  vestiges  of  the  Aztec  sites 
and  structures  have  long  since  vanished  from  the  thickly  peopled 
and  ever  changing  valley  of  the  Anahuac. 

But  these  industrious  natives  have  left  works  which  could  not 
be  destroyed,  and  which  fully  attest  the  busy  swarms  of  workers 
that  must  once  have  filled  this  hive  of  aboriginal  races.  These 
are  enormous  mounds,  almost  mountains  of  earth  material,  piled 
up  in  regular  pyramids,  by  the  slow  and  tedious  work  of  human 
hands.  I  have  climbed  them  to  the  height  of  hundreds  of  feet ; 
and  I  have  dug  up  pockets  full  of  arrow  heads  and  idol  heads 
in  the  fields  about  them,  wondering  all  the  time  how  Wilson  and 
his  train  would  account  for  these  evidences,  in  their  abridgment 
of  Indian  histories. 

But  I  cannot  follow  further  this  labyrinth  of  mazy  conjecture. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  where  such  careful  students  and  searchers  as 
Prescott,  Eobertson,  and  Humboldt  have  not  found  reason  to 
hesitate,  it  is  ill-timed  and  mistaken  effort  now  to  raise  the  dicta 
of  doubts. 

But  I  must  leave  this  land  of  delightful  scenes  and  of  thrilling 
reminiscences ;  and  I  leave  it,  as  I  leave  these  rambling  sketches, 
with  regret.  Yet  once  more  before  I  go  I  must  take  a  last  look 
at  the  lovely  valley  and  its  rampart  of  mountains,  from  the 
heights  of  Chapultepec.  Here,  on  the  fortress  which  our  brave 
boys  stormed  and  took  in  '47,  on  a  standpoint  1,500  feet  higher 
than  the  storm  beaten  summit  of  Mount  Washington,  one  looks 
out  on  every  side  upon  lakes  and  groves  and  hills  and  vales — the 
pleasantest  panorama  the  sun  ever  shone  upon.  While,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  fifty  to  a  hundred  miles,  there  rise  on  all  the  horizon, 
crests  and  ridges  and  mountains,  and  snow-capped  cones  of  vol- 
canoes two  miles  higher  even  than  this  lofty  table  land.  Truly 


296  A    TRIP    TO    MEXICO. 

nature  has  prodigaled  here  her  richest  scenes,  her  most  startling 
contrasts  of  heights  and  depths,  of  soaring  peaks  and  yawning 
chasms.  The  eternal  snows  of  the  arctics  look  down  on  the 
yellowing  grain  fields  of  temperate  climes,  while  these  in  their 
turn  overhang  deep  barancas,  in  which  the  luscious  fruits  of  the 
tropics  are  ripening. 

But  over  all  this  scene  of  wildness  and  of  beauty  is  cast  the 
shadow  of  man's  lawlessness.  Danger  lurks  where  nature  revels. 
It  is  the  story  of  the  tropics  the  world  around — lands  rich  in 
nature's  gifts,  but  poor  in  humanity— 

"Where  the  flowers  ever  blossom,  the  beams  ever  shine, 
And  all  save  the  spirit  of  man  is  divine." 


i  ,     •(  ,       'r 

mm 


SIGHT-SEEING   IN   NEW  ZEALAND/ 


Whoever  would  see  countries  very  much  different  from  his 
own  must  make  up  his  mind  to  cross  the  oceans.  He  who  says : 
"  I  will  see  my  own  country  first  before  I  go  out  exploring  foreign 
lands,"  will  never  know  much  by  personal  observation  of  the 
strange  varieties  of  people  and  culture,  or  of  the  wonderful 
differences  in  the  vegetable  and  animal  developments  that  make 
this  world  of  ours  so  diversified  and  interesting.  The  oceans  are 
the  great  barriers  to  all  interchanges,  whether  of  races  or  man- 
ners or  productions.  Even  cultivated  and  commercial  nations, 
on  opposite  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  are  widely  dissimilar,  as  every 
one  knows  who  has  ever  traveled  in  Europe.  But  in  respect  of 
natural  growths  and  native  species,  which  are  more  restricted  in 
their  spheres,  there  is  always  a  far  wider  difference. 

Countries  divided  off  from  all  others  by  a  great  expanse  of 
waters,  will  most  likely  bear  no  close  relation  to  them  in  their 
stages  of  advancement.  They  will  probably  resemble  some  by- 
gone period  in  the  growth  of  those  more  connected.  And  the 
more  isolated  a  region  is,  the  more  backward  seems  to  be  its  state 
of  development.  Thus  eastern  Australia,  separated  from  all  the 
rest  of  the  world  not  more  by  its  oceans  than  by  the  parched 
and  barren  wastes  of  its  interior,  had  developed,  when  first  visited 
by  white  men,  only  types  of  animals  and  plants  that  were  preva- 
lent in  the  northern  continents  during  the  earlier  Tertiary  times  ; 
such  as  reptiles  and  mursupials,  the  wingless  emus  and  sluggish 
parrots,  the  great  tree-ferns,  the  cycad  palms,  the  araucarian 
pines  and  monstrous  gum-trees. 

*A  Lecture  written  in  1884,  and  delivered  before  the  Central  Church  Society 
of  Rochester,  and  other  Societies. 


298  SIGHT-SEEING   IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

But  New  Zealand,  separated  from  Australia,  the  nearest  land, 
by  twelve  hundred  miles  of  stormy  ocean,  was  still  more  back- 
ward in  the  race  of  life.  Fern  brakes  and  lycopod  mosses  covered 
the  whole  country  that  was  not  forest.  Grass  palms,  tall  tree- 
ferns,  and  impenetrable  jungles  of  evergreen  trees,  loaded  down 
with  orchids,  climbing  ferns,  lianas,  and  every  kind  of  parasitic 
growths,  silent  and  gloomy  from  the  almost  total  absence  of 
animal  life,  formed  its  forest  scenery.  A  few  species  of  the 
apteryx  (the  kiwis)  and  the  giant  moas,  birds  without  a  trace  of 
wings,  constituted  the  land  fauna  of  this  desolate  country.  There 
were  absolutely  no  quadrupeds,  no  mammalia,  and  no  reptiles 
except  a  few  lizards,  that  were  indigenous  to  the  islands. 

A  race  of  Malay  Indians,  nearest  akin  to  the  Sandwich  Island- 
ers, had  in  quite  recent  years  found  its  way  to  these  shores, 
bringing  with  them  some  dogs  and  rats,  the  sweet  potato  and  the 
taro,  the  root  from  which  the  Sandwich  Islanders  make  their 
"poi."  Here  was  a  race  of  men,  a  product  of  the  most  recent 
of  the  geological  eras,  stranded  on  a  half  developed  relic  of  the 
old  Carboniferous  period,  that  did  not  produce  a  spear  of  grain, 
or  an  herb,  or  a  tuber,  or  a  fruit,  or  any  vegetable  that  was  really 
fit  for  a  man  to  eat.  I  suppose  it  was  about  the  hardest  conditi- 
ons in  the  way  of  getting  a  living  that  a  colony  of  emigrants 
ever  found  itself  in.  Until  the  dogs  and  rats  and  roots  which 
they  brought  had  increased  sufficiently  to  be  levied  upon,  they 
found  almost  their  sole  food  in  the  roots  of  the  common  fern- 
brake,  the  Pteris  esculenta,  and  in  what  they  could  catch  of  the 
great  running  birds  which  they  found  there  in  large  abundance. 

At  the  time  when  they  were  first  brought  to  the  notice  of 
Europeans  by  Capt.  Cook,  a  little  over  a  hundred  years  ago,  they 
had  eaten  up  all  the  moas  on  the  islands,  and  had  begun  to  eat 
up  each  other,  in  sheer  necessity  for  fresh  meat,  as  they  always 
claimed.  The  Maoris  (pronounced  Mouries)  were  unquestion- 
ably a  race  of  cannibals;  and  until  about  forty  years  ago,  no 
white  man  who  set  any  value  on  a  decent  funeral  cared  much  to 
go  among  them.  I  have  seen  many  an  old  tattooed  chief  who, 
they  said,  had  eaten  his  man.  I  saw  at  Ohinemutu  a  still  linger- 
ing relic  of  an  aged  chieftain.  He  had  been  a  powerful  warrior 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  299 

in  his  day ;  thought  nothing  of  picking  up  a  man  and  heaving 
him  over  the  palisades.  They  claimed  that  he  recollected  Capt. 
Cook,  which  would  make  him  considerably  over  a  hundred  years 
old.  It  was  said  that  when  they  talked  about  missionaries  to 
him,  the  old  cannibal  would  waken  up  and  move  his  withered 
lips,  as  if  in  dim  recollection  of  some- far  away  feast.  But  Capt. 
Cook,  of  blessed  memory,  at  least  on  the  south  side  of  the  equa- 
tor, had  left  among  them  some  civilized  pigs;  and  these  had 
increased  and  multiplied,  and  finally  took  the  place  of  mission- 
aries at  the  fire  side. 

If  there  is  in  all  the  world  a  country  more  rugged  and  moun- 
tainous than  another  it  is  New  Zealand.  Ranges,  growing  higher 
and  wilder  toward  the  south,  run  through  the  islands  from  end  to 
end.  And  one  sailing  all  around  the  coast,  as  I  have  done,  finds 
only  rock  bound  shores  and  cliffs  and  peaks  rising  inland  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  reach.  Of  course  there  are  some  exceedingly  rich 
and  some  wide  valleys.  But  the  country  is  like  California,  so 
nearly  all  mountain  side  that  valley  land  from  its  very  scarcity  is 
almost  beyond  price. 

How  this  mountainous  region  ever  came  to  be  named  after  the 
low-lying  Zealand  in  Holland,  where  they  have  to  build  walls  and 
dykes  to  keep  the  sea  out,  is  one  of  the  mysteries.  The  good 
old  Dutch  navigator,  Tasman,  discovered  these  islands  240  years 
ago.  He  sent  a  boat  on  shore  to  establish  friendly  relations  with 
the  natives ;  and  these  took  such  a  liking  to  the  fat  Hollanders 
that  they  immediately  roasted  half  a  dozen  of  them.  Old  Tas- 
man was  so  disgusted  that  lie  at  once  set  sail,  and  hove  back  at 
them  the  first  name  he  could  think  of.  It  is  lucky  it  was  not  a 
worse  one..  It  might  have  been  Rotterdam  Spuyten  Duyvils,  or 
some  other  hard  name,  for  he  was  awful  mad.  For  more  than  a 
century  the  Cannibal  Islands  had  a  fearful  letting  alone,  until 
they  were  rediscovered  and  taken  possession  of  by  Captain  Cook, 
in  1769. 

New  Zealand  bears  evident  marks  of  having  been  elevated  out 
of  the  ocean  in  recent  geological  times.  Not  only  its  flora  and 
fauna,  but  its  physical  structure  shows  it  to  be,  in  very  great  part 
at  least,  one  of  the  newest  made  lands  of  our  globe.  Volcanoes, 


300  SIGHT-SEEING    IN   NEW    ZEALAND. 

mostly  extinct,  but  many  still  smoking,  are  found  all  over  the 
North  Island,  while  basaltic  and  other  igneous  rocks  are  found  as 
abundantly  in  the  South  Island.  Enormous  quantities  and 
depths  of  diluvium  are  overlying  the  whole  country,  hills,  ridges, 
and  even  mountains,  in  positions  where  it  is  impossible  to  account 
for  them  except  as  having  been  deposited  on  the  sea  bottom  and 
then  recently  elevated.  In  cuts  through  the  hills,  at  various  ele- 
vations inland,  I  often  saw  layers  of  marine  shells,  sometimes  a 
foot  thick,  clear  and  clean  as  they  had  been  laid  up  on  the  sea 
shore.  In  fact  the  evidence  is  so  plain  that  even  the  natives  have 
thought  it  necessary  to  account  for  it.  So  they  will  gravely  tell 
you  that  once  on  a  time  their  great  god  Maui  went  fishing  in  the 
waters  that  were  then  overlying  the  North  Island.  He  had  a 
hook  made  out  of  the  jaw  bone  of  one  of  his  ancestors.  After 
varying  luck,  he  at  last  caught  his  hook  under  a  rock,  and  in  try- 
ing to  pull  it  out,  he  lifted  the  bottom  of  the  ocean  right  up  into 
the  hills  and  mountains  of  New  Zealand. 

It  seems  to  me  that  I  would  interest  you  more  in  this  lovely 
tourists'  land,  if  I  told  you  of  my  travels,  and  what  I  saw  and 
thought  of  the  people  and  scenes.  It  will  necessarily  bring  in  a 
good  many  capital  "  Fs ".  But  you  will  in  reality,  I  imagine, 
find  me  but  a  small  factor  in  the  incidents  and  descriptions  that 
I  will  be  able  to  give  you  so  much  better  in  this  way.  I  will 
therefore  run  along  through  my  diary,  catching  at  what  I  think 
will  interest  you  most. 

One  bright  summer  morning  in  January,  after  a  three  weeks 
steamer  voyage,  I  landed  in  Auckland,  a  lovely  English  built  city 
of  30,000  inhabitants,  as  far  in  the  southern  hemisphere  as  Rich- 
mond, Virginia,  is  in  the  northern.  With  a  company  of  our 
passengers  I  started  off  at  once  up  Queen  Street  for  the  Prince 
Albert  Hotel,  to  get  our  first  breakfast  on  shore.  But  what  a 
disappointment,  when  we  came  to  see  the  little  cramped  and 
insignificant  hotel !  Why,  there  is  not  in  any  of  the  large  cities 
of  the  southern  colonies,  a  hotel  that  begins  to  equal  those  which 
we  rank  as  second  class.  Our  breakfast  consisted  of  splendid 
meats,  the  best  you  can  imagine,  with  bread  and  coffee.  That 
was  all.  You  get  magnificent  cuts  of  beef  and  mutton  where 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  301 

Englishmen  live ;  but  yon  do  not  get  much  of  anything  else 
worth  speaking  of. 

But  out  of  doors  the  summer  foliage  and  flowers  were  at  their 
best ;  and  it  was  as  good  as  a  feast  to  the  hungry,  to  wander 
through  the  beautiful  parks  and  gardens  of  this  luxuriant  country. 
The  broad-leaved,  fat-armed,  India-rubber  trees,  the  Norfolk 
Island  pines,  the  most  symmetrical  trees  that  grow,  the  Morton 
Bay  figs,  a  species  of  Banyan  with  aerial  roots,  the  Nikau  palm, 
the  strange  and  only  palm  growth  of  these  islands,  and  numerous 
other  tropical  productions  adorn  and  diversify  the  walks  and 
drives  in  the  vicinity  of  Auckland. 

A  favorite  excursion  is  to  the  top  of  Mount  Eden,  an  extinct 
volcano,  some  six  or  eight  hundred  feet  high.  There  are  over 
sixty  similar  cones  within  ten  miles  of  this  city.  From  this 
nearest  one  the  visitor  gets  a  grand  panoramic  view  of  a  beautiful 
city  built  on  hills,  of  a  romantic  country  dotted  with  crater 
peaks,  and  of  the  islands  and  headlands  of  two  magnificent 
harbors  situated  on  either  side  of  the  narrow  neck  of  land  on 
which  Auckland  is  located.  One  of  them  opens  into  the  western 
ocean,  and  the  other,  the  one  by  which  we  came,  opens  by  various 
and  distant  outlets  into  the  eastern  ocean. 

In  a  few  days  we  had  gathered  together  a  party  of  six  for  the 
grand  excursion  to  the  Hot  Springs  and  Lakes.  One  afternoon 
we  took  the  little  steamer  "  Glenelg,"  of  about  one  hundred  tons, 
and  started  out  for  Tauranga,  a  port  on  the  south-eastern  coast. 
Our  steamer  seemed  to  me  rather  a  cockle  shell  concern  to  face 
the  billows  of  the  great  Pacific  Ocean.  However,  with  some 
considerable  tumbling  as  we  rounded  the  capes,  it  carried  us 
through  quite  comfortably,  and  we  arrived  the  next  morning  in 
time  for  breakfast. 

Crowds  of  Maoris,  in  their  gay-colored  blankets  and  paints  and 
tattoos,  were  in  the  streets  and  all  through  the  hotel,  not  begging 
nor  putting  themselves  in  our  way,  but  pleased  if  they  could 
shake  hands  with  us,  and  say  :  "  Me  big  chief;  me  fight  pakeha ;" 
that  is  the  foreigner.  For  you  must  know  that  this  is  the  center  of 
the  fiercest  wars  between  the  natives  and  the  English.  The 
Maoris  are  savage  fighters,  perfect  devils  to  stick  and  hang,  and 


302  SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

never  know  when  they  ought  to  call  themselves  whipped.  The 
precise  and  orderly  British  troops,  who  must  always  have  every- 
thing "  in  good  form,"  and  who  never  have  learned  to  fight 
behind  a  tree  or  in  Indian  fashion,  have  been  beaten  in  nearly 
every  encounter  with  the  natives.  And  they  are  to-day  absolute- 
ly afraid  to  arouse  the  war  spirit  or  to  even  to  execute  the  laws 
as  against  the  Maoris.  The  very  day  we  arrived,  there  was  great 
excitement — and  they  said  this  was  the  cause  of  so  many  natives 
being  in  town — about  a  Maori  named  Tutu,  who  was  out  in  the 
neighboring  country  somewhere,  scouting  about  with  two  hun- 
dred natives.  He  had  recently  with  a  gang  murdered  five  or  six 
English  families,  and  the  authorities  were  trying  to  catch  him,  if 
they  could  do  it  in  some  safe  and  amicable  way.  As  we  were 
going  right  up  the  country  where  he  was  supposed  to  be,  we 
made  up  our  minds  unamimously  to  follow  the  example  of 
the  authorities,  and  not  to  see  him  unless  he  was  out  of  sight. 

After  breakfast  we  took  the  stage,  a  three-seated  covered  spring 
wagon  with  four  horses,  for  Ohinemutu,  54  miles  in  the  interior. 
About  three  miles  out  we  pass  the  Gate  Pah.  A  Pah  is  one  of 
the  intrenched  villages  or  strongholds  of  the  natives.  This  one 
in  its  time  was  fortified  by  three  ditches  or  rifle-pits,  with  pali- 
sades and  strong  hurdle  fences  on  the  embankments.  Here  one 
morning,  twenty  years  ago,  "  General  Sir  Duncan  Cameron,"  I 
quote  from  history,  "  with  three  regiments  of  infantry,  with 
sappers  and  miners  and  marines,  numbering  over  4,000  men,  with 
Armstrong  guns  and  all  the  appliances  of  modern  warfare,  took 
up  his  position  before  this  mysterious  fortification."  Well,  500 
natives,  armed  with  rifles,  dodging  around  in  the  trenches,  and 
keeping  up  sham  maneuvers  in  the  rear,  made  this  pompous  army 
believe  that  there  were  thousands  of  them,  and  kept  it  cannon- 
ading, and  throwing  shells  at  red  flags  away  in  the  rear  till  nearly 
nightfall.  And  when  at  last  the  English  attempted  three  times 
to  storm  the  breaches,  the  native  marksmen  picked  off  with  their 
rifles  nearly  all  the  officers,  and  sent  the  troops  flying  back  to  the 
harbor  miserably  beaten.  I  read  of  their  virtues  and  heroism  on 
granite  monuments  in  the  cemetery  of  Tauranga — not  of  the 
brave  Maoris  who  were  defending  their  homes — but  of  the 
gallant  officers  of  Her  Majesty's  43rd  and  68th  Regiments. 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  303 

For  ten  miles  after  leaving  the  Gate  Pah,  we  rode  through  a 
rough  and  rolling  country,  covered  all  over  with  fern-brakes. 
The  soil  of  these  lands  seems  to  be  good  and  deep,  but  it  is  a 
fearful  job  to  get  rid  of  this  fern.  It  seeds  back  and  comes  up 
again  and  again  as  fast  as  the  land  is  plowed  and  cultivated. 

After  this  we  came  to  the  Oropi  forest,  or  "bush"  as  it  is 
called  in  this  land  of  misnomers,  eighteen  miles  of  a  thick  im- 
penetrable tangle  of  fern  trees,  creepers,  climbing  vines,  and 
giant  forest  trees.  These  were  to  me  of  surpassing  interest .;  and 
I  would  not  have  tired  studying  them  if  the  time  had  been  three 
days  instead  of  three  hours.  The  lower  forest  consists  of  ferns 
of  innumerable  varieties  and  growths,  from  the  minute  filmy 
ferns  on  the  surface,  to  the  tall  and  splendid  tree-ferns  30  to  40 
feet  high.  Through  these  tower  up  the  majestic  pines  and 
birches,  the  Rimu,  Totara,  and  Matai,  the  Rata,  Pukatea,  and 
Kowai,  many  of  them  12  to  15  feet  in  diameter  and  two  or  three 
hundred  feet  high.  All  these  are  profusely  garlanded  with 
orchids  and  parasitic  ferns,  and  festooned  with  lianas  and  creepers 
away  up  in  their  branches  as  far  as  the  eye  can  penetrate.  But 
all  the  trees  and  plants  are  strange  and  unnatural.  The  pines 
you  would  not  imagine  could  belong  to  the  Pin  us  family.  They 
have  no  cones  nor  needle-shaped  leaves.  Their  fruiting  is  like 
berries,  and  their  leaves  are  flat,  from  oval  to  lanceolate,  and  some 
hanging  down  like  the  willow.  The  birches,  the  laurels,  and  the 
myrtles  are  these  only  in  name.  They  have  no  like  species  in 
all  the  world  besides. 

The  Rata  tree  is  the  great  feature  of  the  New  Zealand  bush. 
It  is  the  most  unique  and  intelligent  tree  that  ever — breathed,  I 
was  going  to  say — for  it  seems  to  know  as  much  as  some  animals. 
When  it  first  shoots  up  from  the  ground,  it  appears  to  look  all 
around  for  a  Rimu  pine.  It  will  not  turn  out  of  its  way  for  any 
other  tree ;  but  if  there  is  a  Rimu  pine  within  reach,  it  sfarts  for 
it  and  climbs  straight  up  the  body,  without  a  leaf  or  branch  until 
its  head  is  among  the  upper  limbs.  Then  the  Rata  sends  out 
branches  like  other  trees,  and  at  the  same  time  the  stalk  from 
the  ground  up  begins  to  push  out  on  each  side  a  line  of  aerial 
roots,  which  gradually  creep  around  the  body  of  the  pine  until 


304  SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

they  meet  on  the  opposite  side.  There  they  grow  together,  and 
all  the  network  of  rootlets  grows  together,  forming  a  complete 
case  around  the  doomed  pine,  which  the  Rata  in  time  entirely 
absorbs  and  destroys.  But  if  the  Rata  sprout  does  not  find  the 
Hi mu  in  its  vicinity,  it  grows  up  an  independent  respectable  for- 
est tree,  which  is  greatly  sought  for  as  a  ship  timber. 

Now  if  this  story  of  the  performance  of  a  tree  had  been  told 
me  without  my  having  seen  anything  of  it,  I  most  likely  should 
not  have  believed  it.  But  I  can  assure  you  that  I  have  seen  the 
Rata  tree  in  every  stage  of  its  growth,  as  a  slender  vine,  as  a 
stalk  with  a  set  of  comb-like  teeth  on  each  side,  then  with  the 
rootlets  half  way  around,  then  all  around  and  growing  together 
at  all  points,  and  finally  as  a  great  hollow  tree  eight  to  ten  feet 
in  diameter. 

In  the  middle  of  the  bush  is  a  hostelry,  where  we  stop  for  a 
change  of  horses  and  our  invariable  roast  mutton.  I  took  the 
opportunity  to  hunt  the  jungle  for  ferns  and  mosses.  It  is  per- 
fectly safe  in  New  Zealand  to  ramble  anywhere,  if  only  one  does 
not  lose  his  way ;  for  there  is  not  a  snake  nor  a  reptile  nor  a 
harmful  animal  there,  nor  a  poisonous  plant  except  the  Toot 
berry,  and  the  natives  make  their  strong  drink  out  of  that. 

But  you  will  think  this  is  a  long  journey,  as  long  in  telling  as 
in  doing.  However  we  did  finally  get  out  of  the  woods,  and 
come  in  sight  of  the  first  of  the  beautiful  and  romantic  lakes 
that  are  scattered  through  this  whole  region.  The  first  is  Rotoiti ; 
then  soon  after  we  came  upon  Rotorua,  and  saw,  away  around 
on  the  other  side,  the  little  native  village  of  Ohinemutu,  to  which 
we  were  bound.  We  arrived  about  five  o'clock,  and  stopped  at 
a  very  comfortable  hotel  called  the  Lake  House.  There  is  another 
and  intensely  rival  establishment  there.  Two  white  men,  a 
Scotchman  by  the  name  of  Graham,  and  an  Irishman  of  the 
name  of  Kelly,  who  hadn't  room  in  all  the  world  to  fight  it  out 
elsewhere,  have  come  up  here  and  built  two  rival  hotels,  on  lands 
leased  from  semi-savages,  and  on  a  crust  overhanging  an  active 
volcano.  The  bitterest  competition  prevails  between  them. 
They  run  independent  stages,  have  runners  on  all  the  route,  and 
get  pamphlets  published  to  put  each  other  down.  It  is  really 
the  most  home-like  thing  in  all  this  aboriginal  country. 


SIGHT-SEEING   IN    NEW   ZEALAND.  305 

After  supper  we  went  down  among  the  native  huts  and  hot 
springs.  Everywhere  there  were  ponds  and  pools  of  hot  water, 
streams  and  brooks  of  hot  water,  springs  innumerable  that  were 
bubbling  and  boiling  with  hot  water.  From  every  crevice  and 
upturned  stone  the  steam  was  issuing.  Some  women  were  put- 
ting little  bags  of  potatoes  in  the  steam  fumeroles  for  cooking. 
One  was  covering  up  a  pannikin  of  bread-dough  in  an  under 
ground  oven.  A  lot  of  men  were  chattering  away,  seated  on  flat 
stones  that  were  warmed  by  subterranean  steam.  One  woman 
was  taking  a  late  bath  in  a  hot  pool,  and  some  boys  and  girls 
were  jumping  and  splashing  in  a  pond  that  we  could  hardly  bear 
a  hand  in.  One  had  to  be  very  careful  to  follow  the  paths,  or 
the  first  he  knew  he  would  be  in  hot  water  himself.  One  feels 
that  he  is  walking  on  a  slender  crust  that  overarches  gulfs  of 
seething  and  boiling  waters ;  while  the  "  putrid  stench  of  sul- 
phur," as  Anthony  Trollope  cabled  it,  reminds  one  that  he  is  a 
little  nearer  Tartarus  than  sinful  mortals  care  to  be. 

The  next  morning  I  took  a  walk  in  another  direction,  down 
by  the  carved  house,  meeting  house,  or  Runanga  as  they  call  it. 
Here  was  a  lively  settlement  of  the  natives.  As  I  passed  along 
the  old  women  and  the  boys  and  girls  continually  asked  me  for 
matches.  The  matches  of  the  colonies  are  little  cotton  wicks, 
coated  with  hard  tallow.  Well,  I  gave  'them  all  the  matches  I 
had ;  and  when  I  had  no  more  to  give,  I  handed  them  out  small 
money  to  buy  them  with ;  all  the  time  wondering  what  they 
could  possibly  want  of  matches,  where  they  never  thought  of 
lighting  a  fire.  But  down  in  front  of  the  carved  house  I  saw  a 
bevy  of  little  girls  throwing  a  kind  of  home-made  dice,  and  wax 
matches  were  what  the  little  gamblers  lost  or  won.  Here  was 
another  little  feature  of  foreign  society  that  carried  me  back  to 
my  own  loved  home,  where  other  people's  fortunes  are  taken 
and  played  with,  as  these  little  tawny  skins  played  my  wax 
matches. 

A  little  beyond  this  settlement,  on  a  point  of  land  extending 
out  into  lake  Hotorua,  is  where  the  natives  bury  their  dead.  No 
sooner  are  the  bodies  put  under  the  ground,  than  they  are  acted 
upon  and  rapidly  eaten  up  by  the  alkaline  impregnations  of  the 


306  SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

subsoil.  Where  this  point  now  is,  there  was,  a  few  years  ago,  the 
extended  site  of  a  regular  fortified  Pah  or  village.  But  one  day 
the  greater  part  of  it  sank  bodily  into  the  lake ;  and  now  only 
the  tops  of  the  carved  posts  that  were  in  the  palisades  are  visible 
above  the  waters.  I  did  think  when  I  sat  down  to  contemplate 
in  this  tombless  corpseless  graveyard,  that  earthly  things  were 
transitory  and  unstable. 

In  the  afternoon  we  again  took  the  stage  for  Wairoa,  twelve 
miles  further  on.  This  is  another  Maori  village,  with  only  one 
hotel  and  one  white  man.  Here  the  natives  fairly  swarmed. 
They  came  and  sat  on  the  ground  in  front  of  the  hotel,  and  strag- 
gled through  it  as  if  they  owned  it.  The  women  brought  out 
their  pappooses  strapped  to  boards ;  the  men  brought  out  their 
best  blankets  or  old  coats.  We  seemed  to  be  in  the  midst  of  a 
regular  Indian  pow-wow.  In  fact  these  Maoris  reminded  me 
continually  of  the  North  American  Indians — as  we  used  to  see 
them  here  in  'New  York,  before  the  spirit  of  manhood  was  all 
crushed  out  of  them. 

These  tribes,  the  Arawas,  own  all  this  geyser  country,  and  they 
will  not  give  it  up,  nor  sell  it,  nor  submit  to  any  interference  from 
the  English  government.  They  have  been  so  jealous  of  their 
possessions  that  it  is  only  within  a  very  few  years  that  they  have 
allowed  any  strangers  to  come  in  except  by  special  permission 
from  the  chiefs. 

In  the  evening  we  engaged  a  select  party  of  the  natives  to  give 
us  the  great  national  dance,  the  Haka,  in  the  meeting  house.  In 
the  middle,  a  row  of  sticks  driven  into  the  ground  answered  the 
purpose  of  candle-sticks.  On  one  side  was  a  crowd  of  natives, 
of  every  age,  condition  and  sex,  seated  or  sprawling  over  the 
ground,  all  smoking  dirty  pipes,  with  half  a  dozen  disgusted 
whites  wedged  in  among  them.  While  on  the  other  side  was  a 
row  of  twenty  girls  in  front,  with  as  many  young  fellows  behind 
them,  all  in  the  scantiest  apparel,  and  all  attempting  to  go 
through  the  same  contortions  and  howlings  as  a  leader,  who 
strode  up  and  down  before  them,  shouting  and  gesticulating  with 
all  his  might.  It  was  a  wild  and  savage  orgy.  The  horrid  hiss- 
ings and  ejaculations,  the  uncouth  gestures  and  distorted  faces, 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  307 

the  barbarous  antics  and  unnatural  contortions  of  the  body,  were 
fit  only  for  a  pandemonium.  They  kept  it  up  for  two  hours,  at 
one  time  the  women  in  front,  at  another  the  men  ;  during  which 
time  we  had  to  furnish  two  pails  of  beer,  and  sundry  bottles  of 
a  stronger  beverage.  These  liquors  and  their  little  fee  of  half  a 
dollar  a  head  were  the  sine  qua  non  of  the  performance.  But 
they  gave  us  the  worth  of  our  money  in  good,  honest  diabolism. 
They  worked  like  mad,  and  gave  us  such  an  idea  of  heathen 
rage  as  never  could  be  got  elsewhere.  The  thing  as  we  witnessed 
it  was  in  a  measure  orderly  and  decent ;  but  when  the  tribes  have 
their  great  meetings,  and  the  excitement  becomes  contagious,  the 
Haka  degenerates  into  the  wildest  debauch  and  saturnalia. 

The  next  morning  early  we  were  off  for  the  terraces,  the  grand 
object  of  all  these  excursions.  Kate,  an  interesting  and  very 
fair  looking  native,  or  rather  half-caste,  was  our  guide.  When 
the  Arawas  finally  made  up  their  minds  to  make  some  money  out 
of  their  unique  possessions,  they  found  that  they  had  no  one  who 
could  speak  English.  A  real  full-blooded  native  never  could 
learn  a  foreign  language.  All  business  and  teaching  and  books, 
with  both  the  Maoris  and  Kanakas  (Sandwich  Islanders),  have  to 
be  in  their  own  language.  So  Kate,  and  another  one,  Sophie, 
both  half  whites,  who  had  partly  mastered  the  hard  language, 
were  imported  from  another  tribe.  They  both  claimed  to  be  of 
chieftain  blood,  and  were  stout  enough  to  make  good  their  pre- 
tentious to  rank  and  respect  from  both  whites  and  browns. 

We  first  had  a  walk  from  Wairoa  of  about  a  mile  through  the 
bush  and  down  a  steep  hill  to  the  foot  of  lake  Tarawera.  There 
we  took  a  large  whale-boat  with  six  native  oarsmen,  and  were 
rowed  eight  miles  to  the  head  of  the  lake.  The  country  about 
lake  Tarawera  is  the  most  beautiful  example  of  romantic  and 
varying  scenery  that  I  have  ever  seen.  The  blending  of  barren 
volcanic  peaks  and  verdure  covered  hills,  the  dark  green  forest 
ranges,  the  isolated  clumps  of  giant  Totara  pines,  the  Polmtu- 
kawa  trees,  one  part  of  a  tree  bright  green,  and  the  other  part 
all  scarlet  blossoms,  the  rocky  shores  drooping  with  immense  fern 
clusters,  and  the  lifeless  and  gloomy  silence  that  brooded  over 
the  whole  scene,  made  this  lake-ride  one  ever  to  be  remembered 
by  each  one  of  us. 


308  SIGHT-SEEING   IN    NEW   ZEALAND. 

The  boatmen  sang  or  rather  chanted  their  wild  and  rhythmical 
songs  in  unison  with  their  rowing ;  sometimes  gently,  and  again 
with  a  savage  impulse  that  would  send  the  boat  aflying.    This  is 
one  of  the  refrains  that  came  in  most  frequently : 
"Waka  tana,  Kea  wheta,  Haka  tu — u" 

And  the  boat  would  fairly  leap  under  the  emphasis  of  the 
last  word.  Our  boatmen,  like  many  of  the  Maoris,  were  great 
improvisers.  Some  one  of  them  would  give  each  of  us  in  turn 
some  native  name ;  and  then  you  would  hear  that  name  come 
out  in  his  song  with  some  other  lingo  that  made  them  all  roar 
with  laughter.  It  was  very  evident  their  remarks  were  personal, 
and  probably  not  very  complimentary.  It  is  rather  a  ticklish 
sensation,  I  assure  you,  to  hear  one's  self  described  in  an  unknown 
tongue,  by  a  parcel  of  savages  who  knew,  or  had  often  heard 
their  fathers  tell,  of  the  different  flavors  of  the  different  breeds 
of  Englishmen. 

At  the  head  of  lake  Tarawera  we  land  at  the  mouth  of  the 
outlet  creek  that  connects  lake  Rotomahana  with  this  lake.  A 
canoe  is  paddled  up  this  creek  with  the  luggage,  but  most  of  us 
prefer  to  walk  about  a  mile  through  the  bush  to  lake  Rotoma- 
hana. This  celebrated  lake  with  its  surroundings  is  undoubtedly 
the  greatest  natural  curiosity  in  the  world.  Here  is  a  body  of 
water  a  mile  long,  set  in  among  mountains,  out  of  the  sides  of 
which  on  every  hand  are  continually  pouring  innumerable  min- 
eral and  boiling  springs  of  every  variety  and  shade  of  impregna- 
tion— silica,  sulphur,  iron,  lime,  magnesia,  soda,  potash,  everything 
but  pure  water.  In  some  places  the  springs  are  building  up 
immense  deposits  and  incrustations  ;  in  others  they  are  dissolving 
and  crumbling  down  the  solid  mountains.  No  living  thing  exists 
in  the  lake,  and  but  a  scanty  vegetation  in  its  vicinity.  Its  waters 
are  hot  in  all  parts,  and  in  places,  over  sunken  springs,  very 
nearly  boiling.  As  we  were  paddled  over  these  heated  and  fetid 
waters  in  a  rolling  log  canoe,  we  called  to  mind  the  fabled  Stygian 
lake,  and  wondered  if  Rotomahana  would  not  have  made  a  more 
impassable  barrier  on  the  borders  of  Erebus. 

We  came  upon  this  remarkable  region  just  at  the  foot  of  the 
White  Terraces,  «  Te  Tarata,"  "  The  Tattooed "  as  the  natives 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  309 

call  them.  They  are  composed  of  a  series  of  huge  semi-circular 
steps,  rising  one  back  of  another  until  they  have  reached  up  the 
mountain  side  to  a  height  of  nearly  one  hundred  feet.  The 
material  is  a  silicious  sinter,  deposited  from  surcharged  hot 
waters,  and  forming  the  purest  white  and  most  beautiful  incrus- 
tations. As  these  chemical  solutions  are  destructive  to  shoes,  we 
climb  the  steps  in  stocking-feet.  The  water  that  trickles  over 
them  grows  hotter  and  hotter  as  we  ascend  until  we  can  no  longer 
bear  it,  and  have  to  hasten  out  to  the  sides.  Arrived  at  the  top, 
if  the  wind  is  blowing  the  steam  away  from  us,  we  can  stand  on 
the  brink  of  the  huge  caldron  of  boiling  and  spouting  waters. 
The  chasm  is  a  hundred  feet  across,  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
clouds  of  steam  we  can  occasionally  see  great  columns  of  water 
thrown  up  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  high.  The  color  of  the  water 
that  we  can  see  is  an  intense  brilliant  blue,  even  tinging  the  steam 
clouds  above  it  the  same  blue  color. 

The  fountain  of  the  "White  Terraces  is  a  true  intermittent 
geyser.  The  basin  is  often  completely  emptied  by  an  explosive 
effort  that  throws  the  contents  to  a  height  of  forty  feet,  inundat- 
ing everything  about  it  with  scalding  waters.  It  however 
ordinarily  rapidly  fills  up  again.  But  the  natives  say  that  when 
the  winds  blow  strong  in  a  certain  direction,  the  water  recedes 
entirely  from  the  fountain,  and  they  can  look  down  into  it  as  into 
a  deep  crater.  This  is  certainly  a  very  singular  and  inexplic- 
able phenomenon.  I  would  hardly  have  believed  it  if  I  had 
not  the  evidence  of  a  photograph  of  the  terraces  with  the  water 
nearly  all  drained  out  of  the  step-basins. 

Yery  hot  water  will  take  up  and  hold  considerable  quantities 
of  silica  in  solution ;  but  as  it  cools  it  loses  that  power,  and  con- 
sequently must  leave  it  deposited.  It  is  owing  to  this  fact  that 
these  remarkable  terraces  have  been  built  up  on  this  grand  scale 
and  after  the  thousands  of  years  that  this  silicated  spring  has 
been  pouring  out  its  volumes  of  water.  The  pools  of  hot  water 
that  are  found  in  most  of  the  steps,  being  continually  fed  with 
hotter  water  from  above,  will  not  of  course  grow  colder,  and 
consequently  will  not  deposit  silicious  matter  on  the  bottom  or 
sides.  Therefore  the  basins  never  decrease  in  depth  or  size.  But 


310  SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

the  little  outlet  streams  that  trickle  over  the  edge  of  each  basin 
are  constantly  cooling  and  depositing  silicates.  Thus  they  are  all 
the  time  slowly  building  up  the  edges,  and  adding  to  the  exquis- 
itely beautiful  structure  of  the  frontal  portions  or  walls.  These 
are  like  cave  formations,  and  have  the  appearance  of  the  clearest 
alabaster,  worked  into  cornices  upheld  by  fretted  stalactites.  If 
these  terraces  had  been  carved  out  of  the  purest  chalcedony, 
they  could  not  have  been  whiter  or  more  graceful.  It  is  as  if  an 
immense  and  foaming  cataract,  in  tumbling  down  the  mountain 
side,  had  suddenly  been  transformed  into  Parian  marble. 

When  we  came  down  from  the  terraces  to  the  lake,  we  found 
our  canoe  there,  with  the  provisions,  and  wre  sat  down  by  some 
hot  springs  to  have  our  lunch.  Besides  some  things  from  the 
hotel,  we  had  raw  potatoes  and  a  bag  of  cray-fish,  which  had 
been  bought  of  some  natives  on  our  way  up.  The  cray-fish,  as 
you  know,  is  a  small  fresh  water  lobster  about  as  large  as  one's 
thumb.  These  with  the  potatoes  were  cooked  in  the  steam 
crevices,  and  proved  to  be  exceedingly  nice  eating.  All  took  a 
fancy  that  day  to  native  dishes. 

After  lunch  we  climbed  by  a  ravine  up  to  the  Devil's  Hole,  a 
steam  vent  roaring  with  the  noise  of  twenty  engines.  Then  we 
were  taken  to  a  wide  flat  basin  among  the  hills,  where  apparently 
some  considerable  mountain  had  been  dissolved  away  by  the 
chemical  waters,  leaving  a  crust  which,  by  the  care  that  Kate 
took  of  us,  seemed  to  be  rather  dangerous  footing.  Here  were 
great  numbers  of  mud  springs,  or  little  cones  of  viscous  clay, 
through  which  hot  gases  were  sputtering.  From  one  of  these 
every  native  that  passes  will  eat  a  good  round  handful.  I  tried 
it  and  found  it  rather  tasteless,  but  still  very  clean  and  eatable 
for  mud. 

In  the  same  depression  are  sundry  little  lakes  and  pools  of 
most  disgusting  and  fetid  waters — thick,  green,  greasy,  and  of 
execrable  taste.  We  made  up  our  minds  that  if  the  Devil  lived 
about  here,  as  Kate  said  he  did,  this  must  be  one  of  his  summer 
watering  places — his  Saratoga,  or  his  Wiesbaden. 

After  this  we  visited,  one  after  another  in  almost  tiresome  suc- 
cession, geysers,  foaming  wells,  and  intermitting  springs ;  some 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  311 

throwing  great  columns  of  water  30  and  40  feet  high,  others 
dashing  their  boiling  waters  about  their  basins  as  if  possessed  by 
a  demon.  It  was  frightful  to  witness  the  play  of  such  mighty 
forces,  and  then  to  think  that  all  this  was  only  the  last  expiring 
manifestation  of  the  tremendous  volcanic  agencies  which  once 
tossed  and  tilted  this  rugged  island. 

Leaving  this  side  of  the  lake,  we  all  got  into  the  log  canoe, 
twelve  of  us  dark  and  white,  and  were  paddled  across  to  the 
Pink  Terraces.  Some  think  these  are  even  more  beautiful  than 
the  White  Terraces.  There  is  the  same  enormous  fountain  of 
silicated  waters,  and  at  about  the  same  elevation  above  the  lake. 
The  overflow  has  not  spread  over  as  much  territory,  or  pushed  its 
marble  pavement  as  far  into  the  lake.  But  there  is  in  the  Pink 
Terraces  more  regularity  in  the  great  semi-circular  steps,  while 
the  embossed  sculpture  of  the  frontal  walls  is  tinged  with  a  del- 
icate and  variegated  pink.  They  are  both,  the  White  and  the 
Pink,  among  the  most  exquisite  creations  in  nature.  But  to 
decide  between  them  is  like  the  award  of  beauty  among  the 
goddesses ;  no  mortal  man  could  give  it  arid  have  any  more  peace 
in  life. 

Our  guide,  Kate,  had  reserved  for  the  last  halting  place  of  our 
trip,  the  unsurpassed  luxury  of  a  bath  in  a  perfectly  extravagant 
supply  of  deliciously  warm  and  medicated  waters.  The  basins 
of  the  higher  steps  of  the  Pink  Terraces  are  spacious  swimming 
pools  having  a  depth  of  four  or  five  feet.  The  water  is  delight- 
fully soft,  and  of  course  can  be  chosen  of  any  desired  tempera- 
ture. It  is  of  an  indescribable  blue  tint,  making  objects  immersed 
in  it  glisten  like  burnished  silver.  The  basins  appear  as  if  they 
had  been  sculptured  out  of  gorgeously  tinted  carnelian, 
and  overarched  by  cornices  of  mingled  rubies  and  chalcedony. 
No  such  baths  ever  existed  elsewhere,  outside  of  oriental  pictures. 
Here  we  all  undressed  and  scrambled  into  the  water,  light  and 
dark  together;  such  a  salt  and  pepper  group  as  would  have  sea- 
soned the  richest  painting  that  ever  yet  was  put  on  canvas. 

There  is  no  place  in  any  country  where  the  thermal  baths  are 
quite  as  enjoyable  as  in  New  Zealand.  The  great  abundance  of 
the  hot  waters,  and  their  exceeding  softness  as  well  as  variety  of 


312  SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

mineral  constituents,  make  them  a  constant  delight  and  invigor- 
ation.  They  are  the  attractions  of  hotels  and  health  resorts 
throughout  a  large  extent  of  the  country ;  and  they  are  assid- 
uously advertised  for  this  and  that  ailment  of  suffering  humanity. 
I  however  knew  of  them  only  as  luxuries. 

This  is  the  end  of  our  excursion  in  one  direction,  and  I  will 
not  trouble  you  to  return  with  me,  nor  to  follow  me  later  in  cir- 
cumnavigating the  islands.  After  giving  short  accounts  of  a  few 
noteworthy  things  that  attract  a  stranger's  curiosity  in  these 
distant  lands,  I  will  ask  you  to  stop  with  me  at  a  few  of  the 
prominent  cities  and  scenery  resorts.  But  my  descriptions  will 
be  brief,  and  I  hope  your  patience  will  bear  with  me  to  the  end. 

A  very  singular  native  bird  was  one  day  pointed  out  to  me, 
the  kea,  of  the  parrot  tribe.  It  has  a  large  head  with  a  muscular 
neck  and  a  very  strong  beak,  which  it  formerly  used  only  in  dig- 
ging up  roots  for  a  livelihood.  But  after  sheep  were  introduced 
on  the  islands,  it  got  a  taste,  probably  at  the  offal  yards,  of  the 
kidney  fat  of  this  much  slaughtered  animal.  Then  apparently, 
as  the  supply  was  not  quite  regular  enough  to  suit  his  parrotship, 
he  commenced  to  take  sly  observations  of  the  way  in  which  the 
regular  butchers  opened  up  this  delicious  morsel ;  and  he  soon 
made  up  his  mind  that  he  could  carve  mutton  as  well  as  another. 
So  now  he  alights  on  the  back  of  a  sheep,  tangles  his  claws  in 
the  wool,  and  during  a  tearing  ride  to  which  he  is  then  treated, 
he  digs  into  the  flesh  with  his  powerful  beak,  until  the  poor 
bleeding  victim  falls  exhausted  and  dying.  But  the  cruel  bird 
reaches  his  dainty  delicacy,  and  the  crows  get  the  benefit  of  the 
rest  of  the  feast.  The  kea  has  become  an  intolerable  nuisance  to 
sheep-raisers,  and  very  considerable  rewards  are  offered  for  his 
little  kit  of  tools. 

It  is  perfectly  surprising  to  see  how  foreign  weeds  and  bram- 
bles, that  have  been  introduced  into  this  country,  have  multiplied 
and  overrun  everything.  The  English  gorse,  or  furze-bush,  that 
in  its  native  islands  is  a  very  well  behaved  bramble,  when  taken 
to  New  Zealand  for  a  hedge-  plant,  soon  overleaped  all  bounds, 
and  now  has  to  be  fought  with  lire  and  sword.  I  saw  whole 
fields  given  up  to  it,  perfectly  impenetrable  tangles.  The  little 


03 


SI 

N 

P 
g 

b 
03 

cn? 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  313 

water-cress  of  our  streams  was  taken  there  and  planted  in  the 
colonial  streams.  It  forthwith  grew  into  such  luxuriant  masses 
that  it  actually  choked  up  the  water  courses,  and  some  streams 
that  I  saw  had  been  obliged  to  leave  their  native  beds  and  seek 
other  outlets.  The  dandelion  and  the  dock,  so  innocuous  with 
us,  are  there  rampaging  weeds,  that  take  everything  to  them- 
selves. The  Scotch  thistle,  a  national  emblem  at  home,  is  there 
a  national  curse.  The  outlook  in  many  cultivated  districts 
reminded  me  of  the  disheartening  prospect  which  must  have 
opened  out  before  our  unfortunate  ancestor,  late  of  the  Garden 
of  Eden,  when  he  saw  the  ground  that  had  been  cursed  for  his 
sake.  "  In  sorrow  shalt  thou  eat  of  it  all  the  days  of  thy  life. 

«/  •/ 

Thorns  and  thistles  shall  it  bring  forth  unto  thee." 

Of  the  national  bearing  of  the  rabbit  plague  I  will  have  some- 
what to  say  later.  But  in  climbing  Ben  Lomond  from  Queens- 
town  on  lake  Wakatipu,  I  saw  such  astonishing  numbers  of  these 
little  brown  pests,  that  I  cannot  resist  telling  something  more 
about  them  here.  The  people  informed  me  that  four  years 
before,  there  was  not  a  rabbit  there ;  yet  now  they  overrun  the 
whole  country.  They  were  scampering  away  before  me  all  the 
way  up  that  climb  of  6,000  feet ;  and  I  left  some  figures  on  the 
rocks  up  there  in  geometrical  progression  and  the  laws  of  Mal- 
thus.  Great  quantities  of  these  animals  are  dressed  and  canned 
in  the  colonies.  Rabbit  pie  was  one  of  the  tiresome  dishes  on 
the  long  home  voyage.  At  some  of  the  sheep  ranches  the 
would-be  scientists  of  another  hemisphere  have  repeated  the 
German  Professor  Koch's  experiments  on  rabbits.  They  have 
caught  some,  inoculated  them  with  tubercular  consumption,  and 
then  let  them  go.  In  the  close  underground  life  they  lead,  this 
disease  is  communicated  from  one  to  another  until  they  die  off 
by  thousands.  Since  returning  home  I  have  seen  an  account  of 
the  shipment  of  some  hundreds  of  weasels  to  New  Zealand  as 
an  antidote  for  rabbits.  This  is  nature's  means  of  killing  off  a 
too  prolific  race ;  and  whether  it  is  or  not,  it  seems  to  me  infi- 
nitely more  merciful  than  dosing  them  with  tuberculosis,  and 
making  them  die  off  in  such  an  inhumanly  human  manner. 


314  SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  long  watchings  I  have  devoted  to  the 
great  "  wandering  albatrosses "  off  the  southern  coast  of  New 
Zealand.  They  are  the  largest  birds  that  fly,  and  live  only  on 
the  stormy  extremes  of  the  Pacific.  Their  wings  are  extended 
in  flight  from  twelve  to  fifteen  feet.  There  is  one  preserved  in 
the  British  Museum  with  eighteen  feet  of  outstretched  wings.  I 
have  watched  them  for  hours  when  the  wind  was  high,  without 
once  observing  a  motion  of  the  wings  that  appeared  to  be  made 
to  aid  them  in  flight.  They  seemed  to  ride  on  their  expanded 
wings  as  if  it  were  their  simple  will  alone  that  buoyed  them  up ; 
now  sailing  down  the  wind  with  a  magnificent  sweep,  then  turn- 
ing wTith  increased  momentum  and  mounting  in  the  face  of 
the  gale. 

Ever  since  the  time  of  Solomon,  "  the  ways  of  a  bird  in  the 
air "  have  been  one  of  the  things  that  have  seemed  to  be  past 
understanding.  But  after  observing  how  often  these  master  nav- 
igators were  obliged  to  trim  their  sails  and  scud  off  on  a  side 
wind,  as  the  sailors  would  say,  I  began  to  think  I  had  some  little 
insight  to  their  tactics.  It  is  well  known  that  an  ice  yacht,  sail- 
ing with  the  wind  nearly  abeam,  can  be  made  to  go  many  times 
faster  than  the  wind  is  blowing.  So  a  sail  boat  can  always  make 
better  speed  with  a  side  wind  than  with  a  stern  wind.  The 
reason  is  that  with  a  side  wind  the  full  force  of  it  is  pressing 
against  the  sails  all  the  time,  no  matter  how  fast  the  boat  goes ; 
whereas,  with  an  aft  wind,  the  boat  is  going  along  with  it,  and 
by  just  so  much  the  force  of  the  wind  against  the  sails  is  lessened. 
Like  the  sail-crowded  ice  boat  then,  these  great  birds  spread  their 
enormous  wings  to  as  much  of  a  side  wind  as  their  steering  gear 
can  hold  them  to,  and  when  they  have  attained  a  speed  that  is 
faster  than  the  wind,  they  turn  to  face  the  blast,  and  rise  to  it  as 
if  they  mocked  its  fury.  They  are  the  most  perfect  of  sailors, 
the  most  storm-daring  of  sea-birds,  and  to  me  the  most  absorbing 
study  of  the  ocean. 

In  the  museum  of  Dunedin,  among  the  specimens  of  the 
great  albatrosses,  there  is  an  unfledged  young  one,  said  to  be  ten 
months  old.  It  is  absolutely  larger  than  the  old  birds,  and  looks 
like  a  huge  mass  of  unsorted  down.  It  is  a  fact  that  the  young 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  315 

of  both  the  albatross  and  the  penguin  are  fed  so  long  and  kept 
so  fat  by  the  parent  birds  that  they  grow  to  an  enormous  size, 
and  will  not  attempt  to  shift  for  themselves  until  they  are 
deserted  by  the  old  ones  and  actually  starved  into  flight  and 
seeking  their  own  food. 

At  Wellington,  a  city  of  20,000  inhabitants,  situated  on  Cook's 
Strait  which  divides  New  Zealand  about  in  the  middle,  are 
located  the  Parliament  and  Government  House,  said  to  be  the 
largest  wooden  building  in  the  world.  In  this  city  resides  the 
Governor,  who  is  usually  some  titled  Englishman ;  and  the  finest 
mansion  in  the  land  is  built  and  provided  for  his  use. 

But  that  which  interested  me  most  in  Wellington  was  its  well 
kept  and  most  entertaining  museum.  Its  specialties  are  Maori 
curiosities ;  and  chief  among  them  is  a  Carved  House,  or  Ru- 
nanga,  the  most  perfect  one  ever  constructed  by  the  natives.  It 
was  bought  for  $500,  and  has  been  removed  and  set  up  here 
entire.  Its  carvings,  which  literally  cover  all  parts,  ceilings, 
sides  and  front,  are  exceedingly  elaborate,  and  a  marvel  of  skill 
and  perseverance,  considering  that  they  were  all  executed  with 
stone  implements.  Each  plank  took  a  tree  to  make  it,  and  the 
flint  axes  are  shown  that  hewed  and  carved  it  out.  The  figures 
of  the  carving  are  elegant  traceries  and  embossings,  interspersed 
with  hideous  images,  like  Japanese  idols,  with  wide  open  mouths 
and  three  cleft  tongues  protruding,  which  the  Maoris  will  tell 
you  represent  their  ancestors.  Of  their  and  our  Darwinian 
theories,  I  think  I  prefer  the  monkey  forefathers. 

Within  the  Carved  House  are  innumerable  trophies  of  the  art 
and  workmanship  of  the  natives ;  the  mere,  or  killing  weapon,  a 
double-edged  cleaver  worked  out  of  greenstone,  the  toughest  of 
all  rare  minerals ;  ear  pendants  and  other  ornaments,  made  of 
this  same  hard  stone ;  elaborately  carved  prows  of  their  great 
war  canoes ;  mats  and  robes  of  feathers ;  cloths  and  blankets 
made  from  the  native  flax-plant;  and  a  thousand  other  things 
showing  the  great  ingenuity  of  this  remarkable  people. 

Christ  Church,  half  way  down  the  east  coast  of  South  Island, 
is  an  interesting  city  of  30,000  inhabitants.  It  is  called  the  City 
of  the  Plains,  and  is  the  only  one  in  the  islands  built  on  level 


316  SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

lands.  Here  are  magnificent  parks ;  Hagley  Park  on  the  Avon, 
containing  400  acres,  and  the  Government  Domain,  of  80  acres, 
laid  out  in  walks  and  in  drives  and  as  a  botanic  garden,  with 
every  variety  of  tree  and  shrub  and  plant  and  flower  that  will 
grow  in  a  semi-tropical  climate.  It  is  really  a  delightful  spot. 
What  astonishes  the  American  visitor  in  these  far  off  cities,  is 
the  great  amount  of  care  and  cost  and  labor  that  have  been  ex- 
pended on  public  and  scientific  resorts.  In  every  city  that  he 
may  visit  he  finds  delightful  parks,  instructive  botanic  gardens, 
and  well  furnished  museums.  This  little  city  of  Christ  Church, 
away  on  the  outer  borders  of  the  world,  in  these  respects  would 
put  to  shame  any  city  of  our  own  land  of  ten  times  its  population. 

The  museum  here  is  the  finest  and  best  kept  of  any  in  the 
colonies.  What  interested  me  particularly  in  this  splendid  col- 
lection was  the  group  of  moa  skeletons.  The  moas  were  wing- 
less birds  that  stood  twelve  feet  high,  and  probably  weighed  as 
much  as  a  horse.  There  are  fifteen  perfect  skeletons  here, 
belonging  to  half  a  dozen  different  species. 

Two  or  three  centuries  ago  these  giant  birds  were  numerous 
all  over  New  Zealand.  They  lived  on  the  roots  of  the  fern-brake, 
the  Pteris  esculenta,  which  they  dug  up  with  their  powerful  feet 
and  claws.  The  natives  captured  them  by  driving  them  down 
to  some  large  water  course  or  lake,  where,  as  the  birds  could  not 
swim  and  were  afraid  of  the  water,  they  were  mercilessly  destroyed 
with  the  stone  pointed  lances.  No  wonder  the  clumsy  and 
defenseless  moas  did  not  last  long  under  such  easy  and  destructive 
pursuit.  And  no  wonder,  when  this  the  only  game  of  the  islands 
was  wasted  and  gone,  the  hungry  savages  began  to  raid  upon  each 
other,  and  to  devour  the  bodies  of  their  captives.  Hunger  has 
made  wild  beasts  of  far  better  men  than  these  poor  castaways. 

I  am  sorry  that  I  do  not  have  time  to  stop  with  you  at  the 
interesting  Scotch  city  of  Dunedin,  a  lesser  Edinburgh,  and  the 
largest  city  in  the  islands;  nor  to  take  you  with  me  into  the 
grand  and  stupendous  mountain  scenery  of  the  southern  interior, 
where  are  ranges  and  peaks  and  mountain  lakes  that  outvie  any- 
thing seen  in  Switzerland  or  in  any  other  scenery  resort. 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  317 

On  the  south-western  coast  are  numerous  sounds  or  inlets  of 
the  sea,  like  the  fiords  of  Norway,  only  that  they  are  on  a  far 
grander  scale  than  their  northern  competitors.  We  entered  them 
from  the  ocean  through  narrow  gateways  between  almost  perpen- 
dicular ledges  that  towered  to  six  and  seven  thousand  feet.  Within 
are  broad  and  deep  basins,  without  an  anchorage  or  a  shelving 
shore,  and  in  which  we  see  only  snow-capped  peaks,  and  water 
falls  that  leap  out  into  the  air  and  end  in  clouds  of  spray.  For 
wildness  and  grandeur  there  is  no  scenery  like  this  in  the  known 
world. 

One  day  on  my  travels  by  the  slow  and  tedious  colonial  rail- 
ways, I  was  left  over  night  at  Invercargill,  the  extremest  southern 
city  of  South  Island,  as  far  in  the  southern  latitudes  as  St.  Johns 
in  Newfoundland  is  in  the  northern.  I  will  ask  you  for  the  last 
time  to  listen  to  a  short  description  from  my  diary  during  this 
visit. 

Last  evening  I  sat  at  my  window  admiring  the  southern  con- 
stellations. The  most  conspicuous  object  was  the  Cross,  composed 
of  four  brilliant  stars  set  in  the  brightest  part  of  the  Milky  Way. 
At  this  hour  it  was  lying  flat,  away  up  in  the  heavens,  only  half 
risen  and  pointing  horizontally  to  the  South  Pole,  about  as  far 
from  it  as  the  Dipper  is  from  the  North  Pole.  Two  first  magni- 
tude stars  a  little  below,  alpha  and  beta  Centauri,  and  called  the 
pointers  of  the  Cross,  are  interesting  as  being,  one  the  nearest, 
and  the  other  the  third  nearest  stars  to  us  in  all  the  heavens, 
respectively  twenty  and  forty  million  million  miles  away.  Over- 
head was  the  "  false  cross,"  and  still  another  cross  in  Argo.  In 
the  dark  vacancy  where  the  South  Pole  is  located,  for  there  are 
absolutely  no  stars  in  the  vicinity  of  this  Pole,  are  two  little 
white  clouds,  like  small  patches  of  the  Milky  Way  that  had 
strayed  off  and  got  lost,  called  the  Clouds  of  Magellan.  Just 
under  the  Southern  Cross  and  near  the  foot  star,  is  a  black  space 
where  the  telescope  reveals  not  a  star  nor  a  nebular  haze.  The 
sailors  call  it  the  "  Devil's  tar  pot." 

I  was  up  in  the  night  and  sat  again  at  my  window,  the  bright 
stars  and  clear  night-air  keeping  me  from  sleep.  The  Southern 
Cross  had  climbed  to  its  zenith,  almost  directly  overhead,  and 


318  SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND. 

was  now  pointing  down,  or  rather  was  standing  in  the  natural 
position  of  a  cross.  The  stars  are  not  so  numerous  in  the  south- 
ern heavens  as  elsewhere,  but  they  are  certainly  more  conspicuous 
and  interesting,  perhaps  from  the  striking  contrasts  that  are 
found  in  the  vicinity  of  the  South  Pole.  The  Milky  Way  is  here 
the  brightest,  and  the  dark  vacancies  are  in  deeper  shadow  and 
contrast  than  in  any  other  portion  of  the  heavens. 

This  morning  when  I  waked,  the  wind  was  blowing  a  gale 
from  the  south,  with  a  cold  and  miserable  rain.  I  was  told  by 
some  persons,  who  however  did  not  live  about  here  and  perhaps 
were  prejudiced,  that  this  was  just  a  sample  of  the  summer 
weather  of  southern  New  Zealand.  And  I  thought  that  none 
but  Scotchmen,  who  never  knew  what  a  decent  climate  was,  w^ould 
ever  have  found  and  settled  up  such  a  mountainous  bleak  and 
unpromising  country  as  this. 

And  now  what  shall  I  say  of  New  Zealand  as  one  of  the  nations 
of  the  earth  ?  It  is  a  country  that  tourists  delight  in  and  always 
will.  It  has  the  most  remarkable  natural  wonders  and  the  finest 
scenery  in  the  world.  Its  cities  furnish  unending  attractions  to 
visitors.  It  has  many  noble  and  generous  citizens,  as  I  know, 
who  have  experienced  their  kindness.  But  I  am  obliged  to  say, 
though  reluctantly,  that  it  is  not  the  prosperous  and  promising 
country  that  I  hoped  to  find.  Agriculture  is  not  a  success ;  for 
although  the  yield  of  wrheat,  their  only  commercial  cereal,  is 
often  immense,  sometimes  eighty  bushels  to  the  acre,  yet  the  un- 
certainties of  the  weather  in  a  moist  and  insular  climate,  in  both 
seed  time  and  harvest,  makes  as  many  bad  years  as  good  ;  and  the 
distance  from  the  markets  of  the  world  makes  sad  inroads  in  the 
final  returns.  Sheep-raising  is  not  a  success ;  for  the  rabbits  that 
in  an  unlucky  day  were  imported  there  without  their  natural 
enemies,  have  so  multiplied  and  overrun  the  whole  country,  that 
grazing  animals  can  no  longer  find  a  living  when  running  at 
large.  I  passed  over  ranches  on  which  they  told  me,  one  sheep 
could  not  now  live,  where  formerly  ten  found  abundant  pasture. 
The  gold  and  silver  mines  are  exhausted.  No  coal  of  any  value 
has  been  found.  The  government  has  spent  all  the  money  it 
could  raise  on  splendid  public  buildings  and  improvements,  and 


SIGHT-SEEING    IN    NEW    ZEALAND.  319 

on  rail  roads  that  do  not  pay  expenses.  Complaint  is  loud  in  the 
land  that  taxes  are  high, — have  nearly  passed  the  point  of  endur- 
ance. And  still  the  government  is  borrowing,  and  spending  the 
money  on  profitless  enterprises.  A  loan  was  placed  in  London 
at  four  per  cent  while  I  was  in  the  Colony,  and  great  was  the 
rejoicing  because  it  was  taken  at  a  small  premium  above  par. 
The  banks  are  loaning  money  at  twelve  to  fifteen  per  cent  on  all 
kinds  of  real  and  chattel  securities,  are  declaring  large  dividends, 
and  building  magnificent  banking  houses  in  all  the  cities.  But 
outside  of  these,  both  city  and  country  are  already  dotted  with 
dead  and  n  on -pay  ing  enterprises. 

Now  it  does  not  take  much  of  a  business  eye  to  see  in  all  this 
the  elements  of  a  collapse.  Sooner  or  later  the  time  will  come 
when  the  government  will  be  able  to  borrow  no  more — when 
the  banks  will  be  called  to  account  for  the  money  they  have  bor- 
rowed and  scattered,  and  then  will  find  themselves  loaded  down 
with  depreciated  and  unsalable  properties.  .It  is  the  fate  of  men 
and  nations  that  live  by  borrowing  to  end  in  disaster.  I  am  fear- 
ful and  sorry  to  think  that  hard  times  are  in  the  future  for  this 
lovely  and  interesting  land.  But  however  unfortunate  it  may 
be  in  national  affairs,  it  will  always  be  rich  in  natural  scenery 
and  abounding  in  all  that  delights  the  tourist  and  the  lover  of 
nature. 


THE   SCIENCE   OF   RELIGION. 


The  latest  born  of  all  the  sciences  is  that  of  Religion.  It 
is  a  peculiar  outgrowth  of  modern  thought.  It  has  arisen  because 
of  the  prevalence  of  free  opinions  and  unrestricted  inquiry,  and 
not  in  any  manner  from  a  spirit  of  irreverence  or  atheism.  The 
time  has  now  fully  come  when  every  man  must  be  able  to  give  a 
reason  for  the  faith  that  is  in  him.  If  the  religion  which  we 
profess  is  better  and  truer  than  those  which  have  gone  before  it, 
we  must  be  able  to  tell  how  and  wherein  it  is  so. 

There  has  arisen  in  these  latter  days  a  Comparative  Theology, 
corresponding  to  the  old  science  of  Comparative  Anatomy.  This 
last  has  brought  out  the  points  of  excellence  and  adaptation 
which  the  human  form  has  developed  out  of  that  of  its  old  time 
progenitors.  The  other  will  bring  to  light  the  excellence  of  the 
Christian  system  as  compared  with  the  lowlier  religions  which 
preceded  it.  In  no  other  way  than  by  the  searching  criticism 
and  comparison  of  this  new  science  can  the  true  Faith  be  made 
to  stand  out  prominent  among  the  similar  beliefs  which  anteceded 
and  heralded  its  coming.  The  published  volume  of  the  lectures 
of  Max  Miiller  on  the  Science  of  Religion  is  a  work  which 
redounds  more  to  the  credit  of  the  Christian  Faith  than  all  the 
labored  treatises  on  Evidence,  Church  History  and  Exigesis. 

The  late  Win.  Whewell,  a  distinguished  historian  of  science, 
has  demonstrated  that  all  scientific  discoveries  and  great  advances 
have  had  their  preludes,  their  antecedent  periods,  in  which  the 
thoughts  of  philosophers  were  concentrating  on  those  subjects 
and  the  lights  of  knowledge  were  gathering  to  the  focus  of  those 
final  disclosures.  If  I  am  not  mistaken  there  was  the  same  pre- 
lude to  that  which  wTas  new  and  peculiar  in  the  Christian  Religion, 
antecedent  periods  when  the  vain  philosophy  of  the  old  world 
was  struggling  to  the  formulation  of  that  grand  truth  of  the 


322  THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION. 

immortality  of  the  soul,  and  when  other  nations  outside  of 
Judea  began  to  perceive  the  necessity  of  interposing  a  Mediator, 
a  Divine  Redeemer,  between  man  and  the  Infinite  God. 

It  has  always  been  a  subject  of  wonder  and  astonishment,  and 
often  a  weapon  of  attack  with  unbelievers,  that  the  Christian 
system  was  brought  out  at  so  late  a  period  of  the  world's  progress. 
If  this  scheme  was  devised  for,  and  was  the  only  means  of,  the 
salvation  of  men  from  the  most  awful  penalty  that  could  possibly 
be  imagined,  then  surely  there  were  peoples  and  races  of  the 
older  times  who  at  least  equally  merited  and  could  have  appre- 
ciated its  provisions  and  benefits.  It  would  be  sad,  even  humil- 
iating to  think  that  all  the  refined  and  cultivated  nations  of 
antiquity  had  no  part  nor  lot  in  the  great  plan  of  salvation 
merely  because  they  happened  to  antedate  the  Christian  era. 
Rather  than  entertain  so  injurious  and  narrow-minded  a  conclu- 
sion, it  would  be  far  better,  so  it  seems  to  me,  to  enlarge  the 
bounds,  to  throw  down  the  bars,  that  restrict  the  efficacy  of  Faith, 
and  to  hold  that  a  devout  and  earnest  belief  in  whatever  of  the 
eternal  truths  of  God  and  of  nature  had  been  in  any  manner 
made  known  to  a  people,  would  relieve  them  from  the  "  Condem- 
nation of  the  Law." 

The  Christian  very  appropriately  cherishes  the  expectation  of 
meeting  the  Hebrew  Patriarchs  in  the  Heaven  to  which  he 
aspires.  Yet  certainly  these  worthies  knew  not  Christ,  either 
symbolically  or  prophetically ;  for  the  symbols  or  prophecies 
which  are  claimed  to  indicate  a  coming  Saviour  for  Israel  did  not 
happen  and  were  not  written  until  many  hundred  years  after 
their  time.  Besides  they  had  no  hope  nor  knowledge  of  a  future 
life ;  for  this  tenet  had  no  place  in  the  Jewish  theology.  The 
rewards  and  punishments  of  the  Mosaic  Dispensation  were 
wholly  temporal.*  The  New  Testament  expressly  claims  that 

*The  learned  and  pious  Bishop  Whately  writes  in  his  Dissertation  on 
Christianity  (Enc.  Brit.,  vol.  I,  p.  473,  8th  Ed.):  "  The  nation  of  Israel  was, 
as  we  have  said,  placed  under  an  extraordinary  providence,  which  allotted  to 
them  victory  or  defeat, — plenty  or  famine, — and  other  temporal  blessings  and 
punishments,  according  to  their  conduct.  And  these  were  the  rewards  and 
punishments  that  formed  the  sanction  of  the  Mosaic  Law.  As  for  a  future 
state  of  retribution  in  another  world,  Moses  said  nothing  to  the  Israelites 
about  that.  This  was  reserved  for  a  greater  than  Moses,  and  for 

a  more  glorious  dispensation  than  his  Law." 


THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION.  323 

"  Christ  came  to  bring  Life  and  Immortality  to  light."  But  it 
also  most  beautifully  and  touch ingly  says,  "And  Abraham  believed 
God,  and  it  was  counted  unto  him  for  Righteousness."  The 
simple  faith  of  these  righteous  men  in  the  one  God  who  ruled 
over  the  House  of  Israel  is  justly  held  to  be  their  passport  to 
glories  they  did  not  anticipate  or  dream  of  in  their  day. 

A  thousand  years  before  the  time  of  Abraham  the  Hindoos 
worshiped  the  one  god  Brahma  as  "  Him  who  had  existed  from 
all  eternity,  infinitely  wise,  infinitely  benign,  and  infinitely  pow- 
erful." Shall  this  highest  and  purest  faith  of  all  the  ancient 
systems  be  accounted  to  them  for  nothing  in  the  great  and  final 
reckoning?  All  the  cultivated  nations  of  antiquity  except  the 
Jews  recognized  the  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 
And  very  many  upright  men  among  them,  as  we  know  from 
the  classical  studies  of  our  school  days,  sought  the  reward  of  an 
everlasting  life  of  happiness  in  the  worship  of  the  gods  they 
believed  in  and  in  the  practice  of  virtue  and  good  works.  Shall 
their  faith  and  efforts,  feeble  it  may  be,  but  corresponding  to  the 
light  that  was  in  them,  go  for  naught  in  the  great  and  final  Day 
of  the  Lord  ? 

I  think  we  may  proceed  to  search  out  the  antecedents  of 
Christianity  and  to  gather  together  whatever  there  was  of  good 
and  Scripture-like  in  the  religions  of  the  olden  times,  not  only 
without  fear  of  injuring  the  cause  of  the  true  Faith,  but  with 
the  conviction  that  the  more  the  similitudes  and  the  clearer  the 
foreshado wings  that  we  may  find,  the  more  wrill  the  Christian 
Religion  be  relieved  from  the  great  and  radical  objection  so  often 
urged  against  it,  that  it  came  only  within  the  last  one-third  of 
the  world's  historic  age,  and  has  not  been  made  known  to  one  in 
thousands  of  those  who  have  lived. 

Scattered  here  and  there  among  the  crudities  and  abstruse 
speculations  which  the  ancient  philosophers,  such  as  Pythagoras, 
Aristotle  and  Socrates,  have  sent  down  to  us,  there  are  to  be  found 
a  great  many  precepts  and  doctrines  that  read  very  much  like 
many  tilings  we  have  been  accustomed  to  think  were  first  written 
in  the  manuscript  of  the  New  Testament.  In  order  to  show  this 
I  will  make  a  few  selections  from  the  writings  and  the  accounts 


324  THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION. 

we  have  of  the  Greek  philosopher  Plato,  who  was  born  429  years 
before  Christ.  He  lived  80  years  a  life  of  celibacy  and  of  such 
pure  and  exemplary  conduct  that  his  memory  was  held  in  saintly 
regard.  He  received  divine  honors  after  his  death,  and  there 
was  accorded  to  him  the  somewhat  common  ascription  of  hero- 
worship,  that  of  having  been  born  of  a  virgin,  (authority  of 
Plutarch  and  Hieronimus).  His  writings  that  have  come  down 
to  us  are  very  numerous  and  almost  altogether  in  Dialogue,  so 
that  it  is  difficult  to  ascertain  just  what  Plato  believed ;  but  we 
are  not  so  much  concerned  with  his  belief  as  with  the  great 
principles  and  ideas  which  he  originated  or  first  promulgated. 
It  is  sufficient  for  us  to  know  that  in  writings,  the  finish  and 
fascination  of  which  have  made  them  a  cherished  study  in 
all  ages,  he  has  set  forth  the  clearest  and  grandest  conceptions  of 
the  one  supreme  and  omniscient  God  that  have  ever  been  incor- 
porated in  any  uninspired  religion. 

According  to  Plato,  "  God  is  the  Supreme  Intelligence,  incor- 
poreal, without  beginning,  end  or  change,  and  capable  of  being 
perceived  only  by  the  mind."  But  as  a  being  of  such  exalted 
state  and  majesty  as  he  conceived  the  great  First  Cause  to  be, 
could  not  consistently  be  himself  a  worker  in  the  affairs  of  the 
world  and  of  men,  Plato  inculcated  the  belief  in  two  other  gods, 
emanations  from  and  parts  of  the  great  Supreme  God,  a  Trinity, 
three  gods  in  one.  The  second  person  was  the  Divine  Reason, 
the  acting  principle  which  established  the  order  of  the  world. 
He  called  this  the  Logos,  the  word  of  God,  the  second  person  in 
the  Godhead.  The  third  emanation  was  the  soul  of  the  universe, 
a  subordinate  nature  compounded  of  intelligence  and  matter.  In 
the  language  of  Plato,  "The  universe  being  animated  by  a  soul 
that  proceeds  from  God,  is  the  Son  of  God." 

Plato  was  so  unorthodox  as  to  believe  in  the  eternity  of  matter. 
In  common  with  all  other  ancient  philosophers  he  held  to  the 
axiom  that  from  nothing  nothing  can  proceed.  Consequently  he 
could  not  do  otherwise  than  regard  matter  as  eternally  existing. 
But  its  primeval  condition  was  "  without  form ; "  and  creation 
consisted  in  bringing  order  out  of  this  chaos.  Matter  he  regarded 
as  resisting  the  will  of  the  Supreme  Being,  so  that  lie  cannot 


THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION.  325 

perfectly  execute  his  designs.  Hence  the  mixture  of  good  and 
evil  which  is  found  in  the  material  world. 

Plato  taught  in  express  terms  the  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of 
the  soul ;  that  the  soul  of  man  is  derived  by  emanation  from 
God,  but  that  this  emanation  was  not  immediate  but  through  the 
intervention  of  the  soul  of  the  world,  that  is  the  Son  of  God ; 
that  the  soul  is  a  simple  indivisible  substance,  and  therefore 
incapable  of  dissolution  or  corruption ;  that  the  objects  to  which 
it  naturally  adheres  are  spiritual  and  incorruptible,  therefore  its 
nature  is  so. 

Virtue  Plato  defined  to  be  the  imitation  of  God,  or  the  effort 
of  man  to  attain  to  a  resemblance  to  his  original.  "  True  virtue 
is  really  and  in  effect  a  purification  from  all  worldly  passions." 
"  Whosoever  enters  the  other  world  without  being  initiated  and 
purified  shall  be  hurled  headlong  into  the  vast  abyss ;  but  who- 
ever arrives  there  after  due  purgation  and  expiation  shall  be 
lodged  in  the  apartments  of  the  gods."  "  The  soul  of  man 
carries  nothing  along  with  it  out  of  this  world  but  its  good  or 
bad  actions,  its  virtues  or  its  vices,  which  are  the  cause  of  its 
eternal  happiness  or  misery."  "It  is  said  that  after  the  death  of 
every  individual  person,  the  spirit  or  genius  that  was  partner 
with  it  and  conducted  it  during  life,  leads  it  to  a  certain  place 
where  all  the  dead  are  obliged  to  appear  in  order  to  be  judged, 
and  from  thence  are  conducted  by  a  guide  to  the  world  below. 
When  it  arrives  at  that  fatal  rendezvous  of  all  souls,  if  it  has 
been  guilty  of  any  impurity,  or  polluted  with  murder,  or  has 
committed  any  of  those  atrocious  crimes  that  desperate  and  lost 
souls  are  commonly  guilty  of,  it  is  abhorred  and  avoided  by  all 
other  souls,  and  wanders  without  guides  in  fearful  solitudes  and 
horrible  deserts.  Whereas  the  temperate  and  pure  soul  has  the 
gods  themselves  for  its  guides  and  conductors,  and  goes  to  co- 
habit with  them  in  the  mansions  of  pleasure  prepared  for  it." 

Such  extracts  from  the  translations  of  the  Dialogues  of  Plato 
might  be  made  almost  ad  infinitum.  But  enough  are  already 
given  to  show  that  this  old  philosopher  had  very  advanced  ideas 
of  the  divine  attributes  and  man's  duty  and  destiny.  It  would 
be  hard  to  condemn  to  everlasting  punishment  those  of  the 


326  THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION. 

ancients  who  ruled  their  conduct  and  belief  on  the  high  standard 
of  Plato's  precepts  and  theology. 

The  very  old  religion  of  Brahma  in  southern  Asia  has  been 
studied  and  its  sacred  books  translated  by  such  eminent  oriental 
scholars  as  Capt.  Francis  Wilford,  Sir  Wm.  Jones  and  Dr.  Fran- 
cis Buchanan ;  and  their  accounts  and  discoveries  have  been 
published  in  the  volumes  of  the  English  magazine  entitled 
"  Asiatic  Researches."  In  my  search  for  antecedents  of  Christ- 
ianity in  the  ancient  system  of  the  Brahmans,  I  shall  make  no 
claims  or  quotations  that  cannot  be  verified  in  the  writings  of 
the  authorities  I  have  named. 

The  oldest  sacred  books  of  India,  the  Yedas,  claim  an  antiquity 
of  at  least  3,000  years  prior  to  the  Christian  era;  and  as  they 
contain  records  of  astronomical  observations  dating  as  far 
back  as  that,  which  the  distinguished  astronomer  Bailly  and 
mathematician  Playfair  say  could  only  have  been  taken  by  actual 
observation  at  the  time,  it  is  considered  that  the  claims  of  Indian 
sacred  literature  to  that  great  age  are  well  founded.  In  those 
oldest  books  that  ever  were  written  is  told  the  story  of  the  dis- 
obedience and  fall  of  the  first  human  pair  under  the  names  of 
Adima  and  Heva.  In  their  despair  at  being  shut  out  from  the 
island  paradise  in  which  they  were  created,  they  fall  down  and 
pray  to  Brahma  for  pardon.  "And  as  they  thus  spoke  there 
came  a  voice  from  the  clouds,  saying :  I  pardon  you,  but  you  may 
no  more  return  to  the  abode  of  delight  which  I  had  created  for 
your  happiness.  Through  your  disobedience  to  my  commands 
the  spirit  of  evil  has  obtained  possession  of  the  earth.  Your 
children,  reduced  to  labor  and  to  suffer  through  your  fault,  will 
become  corrupt  and  forget  me.  But  I  will  send  Vishnu,  who 
shall  incarnate  himself  in  the  womb  of  a  woman,  and  shall  bring 
to  all  the  hope  and  the  means  of  recompense  in  another  life,  in 
praying  to  me  to  soften  their  ills."  This  Redeemer  thus  prom- 
ised was  the  god  Chrishna  whom  Brahmans  and  Buddhists  worship 
as  the  divine  messenger  or  mediator  from  the  Deity  to  mankind. 
Of  this  god  the  learned  and  pious  Sir  Wm.  Jones  writes :  * 

*  Works  of  Sir  Wm.  Jones.     London,  1799.     Vol.  I,  p.  265,  et  seq. 


THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION.  327 

"  That  the  name  of  Chrishna  and  the  general  outline  of  his 
story  were  long  anterior  to  the  birth  of  our  Saviour,  and  prob- 
ably to  the  time  of  Homer,  we  know  very  certainly."  "  The 
Buddhists  (a  sect  established  one  thousand  years  before  Christ) 
claim  that  his  incarnation  in  the  womb  of  a  virgin  was  foretold 
several  thousand  years  before  it  came  to  pass."  "  In  the  Sanscrit 
Dictionary,  which  was  compiled  more  than  two  thousand  years 
ago,  we  have  the  whole  story  of  the  incarnate  Deity  born  of  a 
virgin  and  miraculously  escaping  in  his  infancy  from  the  reigning 
tyrant  of  his  country."  "His  birth  was  concealed  through  fear 
of  the  tyrant  Cansa,  to  whom  it  had  been  predicted  that  one  born 
at  that  time  and  of  the  royal  line  of  Devaci  would  destroy  him. 
At  the  time  of  his  birth  the  tyrant  ordered  all  new  born  males 
to  be  slain  ;  yet  this  wonderful  babe  was  preserved  by  biting  the 
breast  instead  of  sucking  the  poisoned  nipple  of  a  nurse  commis- 
sioned in  this  way  to  kill  him."  "  He  passed  a  life  of  a  most 
extraordinary  and  incomprehensible  nature.  He  saved  multitudes 
partly  by  his  arms,  and  partly  by  his  miraculous  powers.  He 
raised  the  dead  by  descending  for  that  purpose  to  the  lowest 
regions.  Pie  was  the  meekest  and  best  tempered  of  beings.  He 
washed  the  feet  of  the  Brahmans  and  preached  very  nobly  and 
sublimely."  a  One  sect  of  Hindoos  hold  that  Chrishna  was  dis- 
tinct from  all  other  avatars  (divine  messengers)  and  that  he  was 
the  person  of  Vishnu  (God)  himself  in  human  form."  "  Chrishna 
is  the  last  avatara,  or  manifestation  of  the  Deity,  who  according 
to  their  sacred  books  will  reappear  a  little  before  the  general  dis- 
solution of  the  world." 

Capt.  Francis  Wilford  says  (Asiatic  Researches,  vol.  10),  "  that 
long  before  Christ  a  renovation  of  the  universe  was  expected  all 
over  the  world,  with  a  Saviour,  a  king  of  peace  and  justice. 
This  expectation  is  frequently  mentioned  in  the  Puranas.  Vishnu 
comforts  the  earth,  his  consort,  and  assures  mankind  that  a 
Saviour  would  come  to  redress  their  grievances  and  put  an  end 
to  the  tyranny  of  demons,  that  he  would  be  incarnated  in  the 
body  of  a  shepherd  and  be  born  of  a  virgin.  The  Brahminical 
books  declare  that  these  prophecies  were  fulfilled  in  the  person 
of  Chrishna ;  and  they  relate  that  a  miraculous  star  directed  the 


328  THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION. 

holy  men  who  were  living  in  anxious  expectation  of  him,  where 
to  find  this  heavenly  child,  and  that  the  Emperor  of  India,  uneasy 
at  the  prophecies  which  he  conceived  portended  his  ruin,  sent 
emissaries  to  inquire  whether  such  a  child  was  really  born,  in 
order  to  destroy  him." 

Salivahana,  another  of  the  avatars  or  gods  born  of  women,  or 
else  the  same  as  Chrislma  under  a  different  name,  is  thus  described 
in  one  of  the  Puranas :  "  Great  and  mighty,  the  spirit  of  right- 
eousness and  justice,  whose  words  are  truth  itself,  free  from  spite 
and  envy,  and  whose  empire  will  extend  all  over  the  world  and 
the  people  will  be  gathered  unto  him,  the  conveyor  of  souls  to 
places  of  eternal  bliss.  He  was  the  son  of  a  carpenter.  His 
conception  was  miraculous  and  in  the  womb  of  a  virgin,  and  he 
was  the  son  of  the  Great  Artist.  His  birth  was  equally  wonder- 
ful ;  choirs  of  angels  with  the  celestial  minstrelsy  attended  on 
the  occasion.  The  king  of  the  country  hearing  of  these  prodigies 
was  alarmed  and  sought  in  vain  to  destroy  him.  He  soon  sur- 
passed his  teachers ;  and  when  five  years  of  age  he  stood  before 
a  most  respectable  assembly  of  the  doctors  of  the  land  and 
explained  several  difficult  cases,  to  their  admiration  and  astonish- 
ment." "  It  was  decreed  that  he  should  be  wretched  and  perse- 
cuted all  his  life-time,  and  ultimately  that  he  should  die  upon  a 
cross,  and  that  he  would  be  brought  to  life  again.  He  did  not 
marry  nor  had  he  any  offspring."  "  He  proclaimed  that  he  came 
for  the  sole  purpose  of  relieving  the  distressed,  and  that  whatever 
man  claimed  his  protection  he  would  readily  grant  it  to  him  and 
even  lay  down  his  life  for  him.  Very  many  of  all  descriptions 
came  accordingly,  and  among  them  a  thief  who  being  pursued 
by  the  officers  of  justice  claimed  his  protection,  which  he  readily 
granted,  and  he  was  really  crucified  in  his  stead.  He  then  ascended 
into  heaven  and  took  the  thief  along  with  him.  Thick  darkness 
overspread  the  face  of  the  world,  and  the  animated  creation  was 
in  the  utmost  distress  and  consternation.  The  holy  man  being 
afterward  taken  down  from  the  cross,  descended  into  hell  and 
there  encountered  and  overcame  death  or  Yama.  Then  a  general 
renovation  of  the  world  took  place  under  the  inspection  of 
Brahma."  (Capt.  Wilford.  Asiatic  Eesearches.  Yol.  10.) 


THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION.  329 

The  four  Yedas  of  the  Brahmans,  which  without  doubt  were 
written  before  the  Biblical  date  of  the  Flood,  inculcate  the 
tenet  of  a  Trinity  of  gods,  Brahma  the  Creator,  Vishnu  the 
Preserver,  and  Siva  the  Destroyer,  worshiped  as  one  God  under 
the  name  of  Trimarti.  They  relate  that  Vishnu  the  second  person 
in  the  Godhead,  in  fulfillment  of  a  prophecy,  and  to  become  the 
Redeemer  of  his  people,  took  upon  himself  the  nature  of  a  man, 
was  born  of  a  virgin,  and  under  the  name  of  Chrishna  led  a  life 
of  good  works,  healing  the  sick,  raising  the  dead,  and  performing 
many  other  miracles ;  and  finally  after  an  anticipated  death  from 
violence  his  body  was  carried  by  angels  up  to  Heaven. 

The  account  of  the  transfiguration  of  Chrishna  before  his 
disciples  is  given  in  the  following  words  :  "  Then  abandoning  the 
mortal  form  he  appeared  to  their  eyes  in  all  the  eclat  of  his  di- 
vine majesty,  his  brow  encircled  with  such  light  that  Ardjouna 
and  his  companions,  unable  to  support  it,  threw  themselves  on 
their  faces  in  the  dust,  and  prayed  the  Lord  to  pardon  their 
unworthy  weakness."  The  second  coming  of  Chrishna  is  thus 
announced  in  the  same  sacred  books :  "  Some  time  before  the 
destruction  of  all  that  exists  the  struggle  between  evil  and  good 
must  recommence  on  earth,  and  the  evil  spirits  who  at  their  first 
creation  rebelled  in  Heaven  against  the  authority  of  Brahma, 
will  present  themselves  for  a  final  struggle  to  dispossess  God  of 
his  power  and  recover  their  liberty.  Then  will  Chrishna  again 
come  upon  earth  to  overthrow  the  Prince  of  the  demons,  who 
under  the  form  of  a  horse  and  aided  by  all  evil  spirits  will  cover 
the  globe  with  ruin  and  with  carnage." 

I  might  extend  these  quotations  to  any  length.  As  Sir  William 
Jones  says,  "  The  prolix  accounts  of  Chrishna's  life  are  filled 
with  narratives  of  the  most  extraordinary  kind."  But  I  think 
enough  has  been  cited  from  the  sacred  books  of  this  oldest  of 
religions  to  show  that  it  was  not  only  the  precursor  and  source  of 
all  other  enlightened  religions,  but  that  it  had  in  it  the  elements 
of  a  high  political  and  moral  culture.  It  is  undoubtedly  true 
that  the  followers  of  Brahma  have  sadly  degenerated  in  later 
ages,  and  that  the  faith  and  precepts  which  once  led  up  to  a  high 
state  of  enlightenment  are  now  the  heritage  of  a  debased  arid 


330  THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION. 

servile  priesthood.  The  same  however  was  true  only  four  cen- 
turies ago  of  those  who  were  the  inheritors  of  the  priceless 
treasures  of  the  Christian  records.  The  state  of  a  society  does 
not  always  keep  up  to  the  standards  of  morality  and  culture 
which  are  preserved  in  its  archives.  But  we  must  concede,  I 
think,  that  the  early  believers  in  the  ancient  Vedas  of  the  Brah- 
mans  were  the  predecessors  in  direct  line  of  the  believers  in  the 
Holy  Bible  of  the  Christians,  and  that  there  descended  from  the 
one  system  to  the  other  many  remarkable  theological  tenets  and 
almost  identical  scripture  recitals.  Shall  we  then  condemn  the 
Brahmans  merely  because  they  preceded  the  founding  of  our 
Holy  Religion?  Shall  we  say  there  was  no  good  nor  reward  in 
their  faith  in  a  God  and  a  Redeemer  so  closely  outlining  those 
we  worship? 

Shortly  before  the  time  of  the  Christian  era  Alexandrea  in 
Egypt  was  the  seat  of  all  the  learning  and  culture  in  the  world. 
Here  was  the  largest  if  not  the  only  library  of  ancient  times — 
700,000  volumes,  all  of  course  in  manuscript.  It  was  unfortun- 
ately burned  or  destroyed  in  later  years  by  Christian  or  Saracen 
fanaticism.  A  peculiar  dialect  of  the  Greek  language  was  in  use 
here  called  Hellenistic  Greek.  The  Hebrew  Bible  was  here 
translated  into  it,  270  years  B.  C. ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
sacred  books  of  other  nations  were  translated  into  it  as  well. 
All  the  Books  of  the  New  Testament  were  first  brought  out 
here,  as  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  they  were  written  in  Hellen- 
istic Greek,  which  was  a  language  little  used  elsewhere  and  not 
at  all  in  Judea.  Here  was  the  seat  of  innumerable  sects  of  all 
mariner  of  philosophies  and  followings,  the  home  of  religion- 
makers,  kept,  boarded,  and  paid  by  the  Ptolemies  to  add  volumes 
to  their  libraries.  It  is  a  matter  of  history  that  there  were  at 
this  time  in  Alexandrea  well  organized  societies  of  men  who 
made  it  their  life  business  to  select  what  seemed  to  them  best 
from  all  known  systems  of  philosophy  and  religion,  and  to  pub- 
lish their  writings  as  gospels  according  to  such  and  such  a  saint. 
In  the  year  325  of  our  era,  three  hundred  Bishops  in  Council  at 
Nice  selected  the  present  Books  of  the  New  Testament  from  at 
least  120  different  gospels,  epistles,  acts,  and  revelations  that  had 


THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION.  331 

become  inextricably  mixed  and  confounded  with  the  true  Scrip- 
tures. 

Philo,  "  the  Jew,"  a  native  of  Alexandrea,  known  to  have 
been  in  active  public  life  at  the  date  of  the  crucifixion,  was  a 
voluminous  writer  on  all  the  scriptures  and  religions  of  his  da}7. 
He  was  sent  as  an  emissary  to  the  Emperor  Caligula  at  Rome  on 
behalf  of  the  Hellenistic  Jews  at  Alexandrea  about  seven  years 
after  the  death  of  Christ,  yet  very  strangely  he  appears  to  have 
been  wholly  ignorant  of  the  great  event  that  gave  rise  to  the 
Christian  era.  Philo  has  left  a  number  of  works  on  Neo-Plato- 
nism  and  the  Jewish  Scriptures.  He  also  wrote  one  on  the  great 
religious  school  of  his  day,  known  as  the  Essenic  or  Ascetic 
philosophy.  This  last  book  has  not  come  down  to  us  entire,  but 
is  fully  reported  by  Eusebius  (A.  D.  324),  the  great  historian  arid 
authority  of  the  first  three  centuries  of  Christianity. 

The  society  of  the  Essenes  to  which  Philo  belonged,  and  which 
was  already  an  old  and  flourishing  association  throughout  Egypt 
in  the  time  of  Christ,  was  known  under  all  the  following  names  : 
Essenes  or  Therapeuts,  signifying  healers  or  doctors;  Ascetics, 
from  their  austere  discipline  and  self -mortifications ;  Monks,  from 
their  retirement  from  the  world ;  Ecclesiastics,  from  their  being 
called  out,  elected,  set  apart ;  and  Eclectics,  from  their  selecting 
from  all  systems.  The  following  is  the  description  of  them  as 
given  by  Eusebius  on  the  authority  of  Philo,  and  condensed 
from  "  Ecclesiastical  History,"  Book  2nd,  ch.  16  :  They  had  in 
every  parisli  their  churches  and  monasteries  in  which  monks  per- 
formed the  mysteries  of  the  sublime  life,  also  their  bishops, 
priests  and  deacons ;  they  renounced  all  property  and  divided  up 
every  thing  equally  among  themselves ;  they  observed  the  self 
same  fastings  and  grand  festivals  that  the  Christians  afterwards 
observed ;  pretended  to  have  had  apostolic  founders  who  had 
handed  down  to  them  holy  scriptures  ;  practiced  the  very  manners 
that  distinguished  the  apostles  of  Christ,  "  abjuring  the  pleasures 
of  the  body,"  "  nor  would  they  eat  anything  that  had  blood  in  it ;" 
they  used  scriptures  which  they  believed  to  be  divinely  inspired, 
and  which  Eusebius  himself  believed  to  be  none  other  than  the 
substance  of  our  Gospels ;  had  the  same  allegorical  method  of 


332  THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION. 

interpreting  those  scriptures,  the  same  order  and  manner  of  per- 
forming public  worship  which  afterwards  were  practiced  by  the 
Christians.  Eusebins  says  their  psalms  and  hymns  were  the  very 
same  that  were  used  in  the  church  in  his  day.  They  had  mis- 
sionary stations  or  churches  in  precisely  the  same  places  as  were 
those  addressed  by  St.  Paul,  as  Rome,  Corinth,  Ephesus,  &c. 
Eusebius  ends  his  account  of  them  as  follows :  "  That  Philo 
wrote  these  tilings  with  reference  to  those  who  were  the  first 
preachers  of  the  discipline  which  is  according  to  the  Gospel  and 
to  the  manners  first  handed  down  from  the  apostles,  must  be 
manifest  to  every  man."  But  Philo  wrote  this  history,  and  all 
the  things  he  described  existed,  long  before  there  was  a  word  of 
the  New  Testament  written.  Philo  does  not  in  any  of  his 
works  mention  the  name  or  refer  in  the  remotest  manner  to 
Christ  or  to  Christians.  Mosheim  the  great  ecclesiastical  histor- 
ian says,  "  It  was  here  (in  Egypt)  that  the  Essenes  dwelt  princi- 
pally, long  before  the  coming  of  Christ :  "  "  that  the  Ascetic 
philosophy  was  in  a  flourishing  state  in  Alexandrea  when  our 
Saviour  was  upon  earth."  Evidently  then  these  societies  were 
the  forerunners,  the  antecedents  of  Christianity.  And  if  their 
votaries  could  not  be  distinguished  from  real  and  true  Christians 
by  an  eminent  church  historian  of  the  fourth  century,  shall  we 
of  the  nineteenth  presume  to  say  they  had  no  part  in  the  promises 
of  the  new  religion  to  which  they  contributed  so  large  a  share 
of  principles  and  observances  ? 

If  it  might  be  permitted  to  predicate  for  religions,  as  it  is  for 
civilizations  and  governments,  an  element  of  evolution, — that  is 
of  the  more  perfect  following  and  developing  out  of  the  cruder 
and  less  advanced, — then  many  difficulties  might  be  removed  that 
now  are  stumbling  blocks.  I  think' we  have  shown  quite  conclu- 
sively that  the  Christian  religion  was  not  only  a  great  reform  of 
the  Jewish,  but  that  it  adopted  in  an  improved  form  many  of  the 
tenets,  observances  and  traditions  of  the  classical  and  oriental 
religions  that  preceded  it.  Again  in  the  great  Reformation  of 
the  16th  century,  Knox,  Calvin  and  Luther  introduced  doctrines 
and  elements  of  advance  that  had  never  been  previously  promul- 
gated. The  Christian  religion  of  to-day  is  as  much  superior  to 


THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION.  333 

the  Christianity  of  the  early  centuries  as  the  Republicanism  of 
America  is  in  advance  of  that  of  old  Rome. 

Theologians  may  say  what  they  will  about  the  modern  churches 
adhering  to  the  strict  and  rigid  doctrines  of  primitive  Christian- 
ity, it  is  nevertheless  true  that  the  whole  course  of  Christian 
ideas  and  interpretation  of  dogmas  lias  greatly  changed  from 
what  it  was  fifteen  to  eighteen  centuries  ago.  The  following  are 
instances  in  point :  The  material  Heaven,  the  mansions  in  the 
skies,  with  angels  ascending  and  descending,  the  excessive  and 
inconceivable  torments  reserved  for  unbelievers,  all  so  vividly 
pictured  in  every  part  of  the  New  Testament  without  the  least 
implication  of  an  allegorical  meaning;  the  scriptural  evidences 
of  conversion,  "  and  these  signs  shall  follow  them  that  believe ; 
in  my  name  shall  they  cast  out  devils,  they  shall  speak  with  new 
tongues,  they  shall  take  up  serpents,  and  if  they  drink  any  deadly 
thing  it  shall  not  hurt  them,  they  shall  lay  hands  on  the  sick  and 
they  shall  recover,"  (Mark  16  :  17,  18).  The  working  of  miracles 
through  faith,  "  If  ye  have  faith  and  doubt  not  ye  shall  say  unto 
this  mountain,  Be  thou  removed  and  be  thou  cast  into  the  sea, 
and  it  shall  be  done  "  (Math.  21 :  21) ;  the  expected  second  com- 
ing of  the  Messiah,  declared  in  Luke  21 :  2T-31,  and  then  in  verse 
32,  "  verily  I  say  unto  yon,  this  generation  shall  not  pass  away 
till  all  be  fulfilled  ; "  the  authority  of  the  ministers  of  Christ  to 
forgive  sins,  "  whose  soever  sins  ye  remit  they  are  remitted  unto 
them  ;  and  whose  soever  sins  ye  retain  they  are  retained"  (John 
20 :  23) ;  the  resurrection  of  the  natural  bodies  of  all  mankind 
on  the  last  great  day.  All  these  and  many  other  doctrines  pecu- 
liar to  the  earlier  and  materialistic  stages  of  the  Christian  religion 
are  now  either  given  iip  or  ignored  or  passed  over  to  metaphors. 

If  then  religions  have  been  successively  and  in  a  measure 
evolved  out  of  each  other,  and  have  grown  with  the  advancing 
ages,  there  is  no  point  in  that  growth  where  it  can  be  said  that 
previous  votaries  were  condemned  by  the  law,  while  those  subse- 
quent to  it  were  relieved  from  its  condemnation.  St.  Paul,  the 
great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  says  to  the  Romans  (Rom.  2 :  14), 
"  For  when  the  Gentiles  which  have  not  the  law,  do  by  nature 
the  things  contained  in  the  law,  these  having  not  the  law  are  a 


334  THE    SCIENCE    OF    RELIGION. 

law  unto  themselves";  the  context  showing  that  they  would  not 
fail  of  their  reward  "in  the  day  when  God  shall  judge  the 
secrets  of  men  by  Jesus  Christ''  (id.  verse  16) ;  and  again  (Rom. 
4:  15),  "for  where  no  law  is,  there  is  no  transgression." 

The  liberal  minded  and  logical  St.  Paul  saw  at  once  that  a  man 
could  not  be  condemned  for  disobedience  who  had  never  had  an 
intimation  of  what  or  whom  he  was  to  obey.  The  sweeping  and 
effective  text,  "He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved; 
but  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned,"  could  not  by  any 
possibility  apply  to  those  who  had  never  been  told  what  to  believe, 
nor  to  those  who  had  never  been  informed  as  to  the  process  and 
necessity  of  baptism.  And  even  with  all  the  light  we  have  at 
the  present  time  on  this  all  important  rite  of  baptism,  it  is  not 
yet  determined  what  form  of  it  is  the  proper  one,  and  whether  a 
certain  form  of  it  is  not  really  a  saving  ordinance.  Just  think 
for  a  moment  how  many  good  and  devout  men  would  be  most 
wofully  disappointed  if  there  should  happen  to  be  any  mistake 
about  this  simple  matter  of  baptism.  I  submit  therefore  whether 
it  would  not  be  a  safer  and  a  better  policy  for  all  denominations 
to  give  up  all  restrictions  on  future  rewards  dependent  on  bap- 
tism, sectarianism,  regeneration,  or  any  peculiar  religious  beliefs, 
and  to  hold  with  St.  Peter,  the  great  preacher  to  the  Gentiles, 
"  That  God  is  no  respecter  of  persons :  But  in  every  nation  he 
that  feareth  him  and  worketh  righteousness  is  accepted  with 
him  "(Acts  10:  34). 


SKETCHES   OF   SEA-LIFE/ 


"  Tumble  out  here,  men,  and  make  sail.  Be  lively — be  lively 
there."  And  forth  from  the  "  top-gallant  forecastle  "  came  reel- 
ing and  rollicking  a  score  of  drunken  tars.  "  Come,  bestir  your- 
selves, you  old  ruin-soakers.  Lay  aloft,  some  of  ye,  and  turn  out 
that  canvas."  "  Mr.  Beattie,  overhaul  their  chests,  and  bring  aft 
every  drop  of  liquor  you  find.  I'll  know  what  cargo  is  aboard 
there  for'ard."  A  stirring  tune  this,  captain,  you  first  strike  up. 
But  glad  it  sounds  notwithstanding,  for  it  tells  us  we  soon  will 
be  alone  on  our  broad,  free  home.  Already,  from  the  steamboat 
by  our  side,  has  been  given  the  order,  "  Shoremen  aboard."  And 
on  her  deck  are  seen  many  countenances  saddened  by  recent 
partings.  The  word  comes  to  "cast  off  the  lines,"  and  now  the 
noble  "  St.  Denis,"  for  the  first  time  let  loose  on  an  untried  ele- 
ment, rears  its  proud  head  on  the  waves,  and  haughtily  turns 
from  its  puffing,  toiling  companion,  as  in  mockery  of  man's 
power.  There  is  a  conscious  pride  in  the  power  to  subdue  the 
wild  sport  of  winds,  in  which  the  very  ship  seems  to  participate. 
And  it  has  a  lordly  bearing,  as  it  boldly  careers  through  the 
mingled  battles  of  air  and  sea.  Man  may  bolt  in  the  pent-up 
forces  of  steam  to  speed  him  on  a  joyless  journey ;  may  outride, 
if  he  please,  old  Boreas  himself ;  but  give  to  me  the  craft  that, 
of  its  own  kingly  will,  can  peer  into  the  "  wind's  eye,"  or  before 
a  gale  can  fly  untiring  and  majestic  as  the  eagle. 

As  the  steamer  paddled  off  on  its  return  to  port,  we  were 
greeted  from  it  by  three  long,  loud  cheers.  Immediately  work 
was  suspended,  orders  unheeded,  and  many  a  rope  "  went  by  the 

*  Written  in  1847,  and  published  in  the  Yale  College  Literary  Magazine.  A 
description  of  the  author's  first  voyage  (to  Havre  in  France)  as  a  sailor  "  before 
the  mast,"  during  the  summer  of  that  year. 


336  SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE. 

run,"  while  amid  the  toss  of  sea-caps  and  tarpaulins  there  went 
up  three  as  hearty  responses  -as  ever  were  echoed  over  New  York 
harbor.  Long  after,  till  the  boat  was  lost  to  view  in  the  forest 
of  masts  which  encircles  the  Empire  City,  we  could  see,  waving 
over  many  a  sylph-like  form,  the  white  flag  of  woman's  love. 
Heaven  smile  on  the  fair  who  thus  bid  "  God  speed  "  to  the  lone 
mariner,  wrestling  ever  with  the  perils  of  the  main. 

It  is  hard  to  sever  the  last  link  that  binds  one  to  land  and  to 
home ;  and  the  heart  sinks  low  with  sadness,  in  even  the  bosom 
that  has  buffeted  a  thousand  gales,  as  the  last  adieu  is  waved  to 
objects  of  most  tender  associations.  There  was  one  at  least  among 
that  rough,  hardy  crew  whose  thoughts  were  cheerless  and  heavy. 
He  was  a  "  Freshman  of  the  sea."  He  was  to  traverse  the  three 
thousand  miles  of  landless,  boisterous  ocean,  in  a  narrow  tene- 
ment, where  a  single  false  step  or  missing  grasp  might  cause  to 
close  over  him  forever,  Nature's  vast  sepulchre.  His  vessel  too 
had  never  yet  tested  its  sea-powers,  or  tried  its  arm  with  the 
fickle  twins  that  rule  the  deep,  and  in  a  luckless  hour  it  might 
spring  a  gaping  leak  in  its  uncoppered  hull,  or  under  press  of 
sail  careen  beyond  its  balance.  Yet  it  was  not  fear  that  weighed 
on  his  spirits,  for  little  did  he  reck  or  know  of  the  danger.  But 
he  thought  of  the  changes  of  the  few  past  weeks ;  of  the  strange 
situation  into  which  a  restless,  roving  disposition  had  led  him. 
He  thought  of  the  strong  ties — now  probably  severed  for  ever — 
which  had  bound  to  him  as  brothers,  his  generous  classmates, 
who,  as  they  pealed  again  their  hearty  welcomes,  after  a  joyous 
spring  vacation,  would  wonder  at  the  freak  which  had  sent  so 
retiring  a  student  to  try  the  noisy,  Jack-tar  life  of  a  forecastle. 
He  thought  too  of  loved  friends  at  home,  who  soon  would  read, 
with  startled,  sorrowing  eyes,  the  first  intelligence  of  the  errant 
course  of  a  son  and  brother ;  and  a  tear  of  penitent  regret  rolled 
unbidden  down  his  cheek. 

But,  heigh-ho  !  What  a  savage  gust  that  was  !  How  that  huge 
swell  tumbled  us  about !  The  arms  of  the  bay  have  suddenly 
opened,  revealing  to  us  a  shoreless  expanse  of  waters.  While  I 
had  been  absorbed  in  revery,  our  "  Ocean  bird  "  had  spread  its 
broad  wings  to  the  breezes,  and  had  lightly  flitted  through  the 


Plate  XX.— SAILOR  BOY   "CHARLIE."     See  Page  xx. 


SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE.  337 

Narrows.  Now  with  beak  pointing  toward  its  destination,  the 
far-off  "  Land  of  the  Gaul,"  it  was  fast  speeding  on  to  the  bosom 
of  the  Atlantic.  But  look !  Ah,  woe  is  me !  The  captain's 
stern  eye  is  fastened  on  me.  "  What  are  you  figuring  at  there, 
boy  ?  Come !  wake  up,  and  shake  the  kinks  out  of  your  land 
legs,  you  young  sodger!"  Startled  by  these  uncivil  remarks,  it 
was  not  long  before  I  was  moving.  Now  stumbling  over  a  surly 
tar,  and  again  rolling  with  another  into  the  ulee  rigging,"  run- 
ning here  to  help  "let  go  a  rope,"  and  there  tugging  on  when  the 
word  was  "belay,"  I  managed  to  clear  myself  at  least  from  the 
imputation  of  inactivity.  Yes,  Captain  Howre,  savage  master 
though  you  were,  it  was  the  last  time  you  ever  called  me  "sodger," 
that  most  opprobrious  epithet  in  the  sailor's  vocabulary. 

The  afternoon  on  which  we  left  New  York  was  occupied  in 
setting  sails  and  getting  every  thing  into  "ship-shape"  for  sea. 
Toward  evening  all  hands  were  called  on  the  quarter  deck,  to  be 
divided  into  watches.  Against  the  "lee  bulwarks"  twenty  rug- 
ged, stalwart  men  ranged  themselves;  their  broad,  sinewy  forms 
bearing  powerful  testimony  to  the  healthiness  and  hardihood  of 
the  mariner's  life ;  their  countenances  portraying  the  hard  marks 
of  many  a  winter's  blast,  and  the  swarthy  hue  from  many  a 
scorching  calm  in  the  tropics.  Come  up  here,  all  ye  Blue  Devils 
and  Doleful  Dumps,  ye  Phantoms  of  Hypochondria,  and  Ghosts 
of  Consumption.  Look  on  a  sight  that  should  shame  ye  for  so 
fouling  the  fair  face  of  earth,  and  well-nigh  blotting  from  man 
the  impress  of  his  God.  Many  a  time,  when  admiring  the 
brawny,  symmetrical  proportions,  and  the  noble-hearted  nature 
of  the  sailor,  have  I  vowred  never  again  to  make  my  home  amid 
the  wasting  ills  and  the  niggard-souled  multitude  on  land.  Even 
now,  as  I  recall  the  familiar  scenes  of  the  few  months  of  which 
I  am  writing,  there  is  stirring  a  restless  spirit  within  me,  a  long- 
ing once  more  for  the  wild  life  of  the  sea;  and  I  cannot  all  repress 
a  regret  for  the  accident  which  deterred  me  from  following  longer 
my  inclinations. 

Around  the  capstan  stood  four  who  were  the  "boys"  of  the 
crew.  The  eldest  of  them,  a  "  boy  "  of  over  twenty-one  years  of 
age,  was  a  relative  of  the  captain,  and  .son  of  a  New  York  mer- 


338  SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE. 

chant,  and  had  already  been  on  a  voyage  to  Canton  before  the 
mast.  His  real  name  was  Lee ;  but  from  the  fact  of  his  having 
adopted  every  habit  and  quality  which  make  up  a  sailor  except 
seamanship,  the  mate  gave  him  the  significant  title  of  "  Chaw- 
tobacco  Jack."  Another  was  poor  "  Jimmy  Ducks,"  of  a  wealthy 
family,  but  of  the  utmost  personal  inefficiency  and  arrogance. 
He  had  been  another  Havre  voyage  before  with  the  same 
captain,  and  of  all  on  board  our  ship  was  his  only  favorite.  On 
him,  by  a  little  art,  especially  by  feigning  great  ignorance  in  the 
calling  of  the  "prodigal  son,"  I  very  speedily  shifted  the 
name  and  duties  which  an  almost  universal  usage  had  otherwise 
fixed  on  me.  I  refer  to  the  care  of  the  pigs  and  cows  that  were 
on  board  ship.  The  third  who  made  out  the  trio  of  those  whom 
the  men  called  "gentlemen's  sons,"  was  that  same  truant  from 
college  and  home,  already  introduced  to  the  reader ;  and  in  de- 
fault of  an  easier  name,  he  went  by  the  self-appropriated  one  of 
"Charlie."  But  now  for  "boy  Harry,"  decidedly  the  most 
important  personage  aboard  ship,  at  once  the  life  and  butt  of  the 
crew,  and  an  everlasting  plague  to  the  officers — an  absolute  essen- 
tial everywhere,  and  yet  for  ever  in  the  way.  I  have  him  now 
in  my  mind's  eye — his  short,  chubbed  form,  and  fat,  Dutch  vis- 
age, in  which  sparkled  as  keen  and  roguish  a  pair  of  black  eyes 
as  ever  a  youngster  sported ;  and  then  that  lisping,  Hollandish 
tongue  of  his — how  its  least  movement  would  set  the  men  laugh- 
ing and  cursing!  yet  it  never  rested.  And  well  I  may  remember 
him,  for  many  is  the  time  we  have  raced  up  the  rigging  together 
in  strife  for  the  "  weather  }7ard  arm ; "  and  many  is  the  long 
watch  hour  we  have  whiled  away  together  with  schemes  of  mis- 
chief or  in  kindly  spats.  I  recollect  well  when  I  first  saw  him. 
It  was  on  board,  just  before  we  left  New  York.  The  captain 
chancing  to  pass  him,  asked  what  he  was  doing  there ;  lie  said, 
the  mate  had  hired  him  for  "or'nary  theaman  ; "  he  had  been  to 
sea  two  years.  The  mate  soon  after  coming  up,  asked  him  the 
same  question ;  he  answered  promptly,  that  the  captain  had 
engaged  him  for  an  "  or'nary  theaman."  And  so  we  had  "  boy 
Harry"  in  our  crew,  though  he  unfortunately  failed  of  getting 
ordinary  seaman's  wages. 


SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE.  339 

Well,  "  old  skipper,"  we  are  ready  for  yon  now  to  take  your 
watch.  And  witli  apparent  impartiality  lie  made  a  division, 
numerically  equal.  But  it  did  most  unaccountably  happen  that 
certain  of  the  smartest,  most  able-bodied  seamen  fell  into  the 
starboard  watch,  which  chanced  to  be  his  own.  Lee  and  Jimmy 
were  apportioned  to  the  mate's  or  larboard  watch,  and  Harry  and 
myself  to  the  other.  Then  came  the  captain's  customary  address, 
and  I  wonder  that  each  word  did  not  perish  on  the  false  tongue 
that  uttered  it.  "  My  hearties,  I  like  your  looks  lirst  rate.  You 
are  a  hale  set  of  fellows  as  I  have  seen  in  a  crew  for  a  long  time, 
and  its  my  opinion  we're  going  to  have  a  pleasant  voyage,  and  a 
pleasant  season  for  it.  Now  if  you'll  do  your  duty  and  be  faith- 
ful, you'll  find  me  a  right  clever  master,  and  you  shall  have  the 
best  of  usage  and  the  best  of  fare ;  but  if  you  don't,  you'll  find 
I  can  make  this  ship  a  perfect  hell  for  you.  Go  below,  the  star- 
board watch."  And  down  into  the  forecastle  we  bounced  in  a 
trice ;  when,  after  hearing  many  a  hearty  curse  on  the  skipper 
for  abducting  sundry  well-filled  demijohns  and  bottles,  all  were 
soon  rolling  about  in  the  hug  of  Morpheus. 

Now  that  forecas'le  was  a  queer  pen  at  best ;  and  ours  was 
probably  as  good  a  specimen  as  any  on  the  waters,  being  what 
w^as  scientifically  called  a  "  Top-gallant  forecastle,"  or  "  House  on 
deck."  It  was  as  large,  except  in  height,  as  a  common  sized 
room  ;  and  around  its  sides  were  ranged  about  twenty-four  berths, 
upper  and  lower,  single  and  double,  from  under  which  twenty- 
four  huge  chests  stuck  out  half  their  lengths.  In  the  middle  of 
the  floor  was  stacked  up  a  promiscuous  heap  of  boots,  caps,  oil- 
cloth jackets,  and  every  sort  of  sea-accoutrement.  Such  was  the 
bedlam  confusion  in  which  ate,  slept,  and  lived,  by  turns  or  all 
together  as  occasion  required,  twenty-four  persons.  Yet  in  all 
this — and  I  took  my  full  share  of  discomfort  as  well  as  labor — I 
was  contented,  ay,  and  happy ;  and  who,  with  any  conform- 
ity of  disposition,  would  not  be  ?  Thrown  together,  as  sailors 
are,with  common  interests  and  common  fare,  obliged  to  participate 
in  common  toil  and  dangers,  they  speedily  lose  every  vestige  of 
selfishness — that  bane  of  ordinary  society.  There  is  nothing  a 
sailor  will  not  do  for  his  shipmate — nothing  he  will  not  share  to 


34:0  SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE. 

the  last  with  him.  Thus  can  a  rough  but  hearty  generosity,  witli 
an  unvarying  round  of  pleasantry,  make  of  the  most  dismal  quar- 
ters an  agreeable  home. 

At  midnight  we  were  all  roused  from  a  deep  sleep  by  a  thunder- 
ing rattle  against  the  door,  followed  immediately  by  the  deafening 
call,  "Sta— r-b'rd  wa— tch,  a— h— o— y!  Eight  bells  there! 
Hear  the  news ?"  We  were  soon  up  and  out,  giving  place  to 
the  sleepy  deckers ;  and  our  men  in  turn,  wrapping  around  them 
their  pea-jackets,  disposed  themselves  for  a  little  napping  on 
whatever  came  convenient — some  on  a  spar,  some  on  water  casks, 
others  in  the  coil  of  a  rope,  and  others  still  on  the  "  soft  side  of 
a  board."  I  tried  all  these  devices,  and  many  others  equally  in- 
viting, but  not  the  least  rest  could  I  get,  much  less  sleep.  And 
moreover  feeling  a  little  queer — not  sea-sick,  for  I  never  was  sea- 
sick— but  a  sort  of  indescribable  all-over-ness,  as  some  poet  has 
written,  "All  was  not  right,  yet  where  the  wrong?"  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  was  no  use  torturing  one's  self  so, 
especially  as  there  was  nothing  in  creation  to  do  outside,  that  I 
could  see.  So  in  I  stole,  and  crept  into  bed,  where  I  was  forth- 
with dreaming  as  sweetly  as  ever  in  my  life  before.  How  long 
after  it  was,  I  do  not  know,  but  I  was  soon  brought  to  conscious- 
ness by  a  severe  punching  at  my  sides.  Turning  over,  I  saw  boy 
Harry  standing  by  my  bunk.  "  Vot  you  thleep  for?  They  hunt 
for  you  all  over  the  thyip.  The  thecond  mate,  he  be  hell  on  you." 
In  an  instant  I  was  out  on  the  floor,  but  in  the  utmost  fright  and 
uncertainty  what  next  to  do.  "  Tell  him,"  says  he,  "  you  be 
thick — you  no  can  vork."  I  told  Harry  to  go  up  slily  where  the 
men  were,  and  not  say  a  word  about  me.  So  as  soon  as  I  saw 
the  mate's  head  turned,  I  followed  up  and  *<  tailed  onto "  the 
rope,  on  which  they  were  pulling,  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 
Now  our  "  second  Dickey  "  was  a  gruff,  but  noble-hearted  sailor, 
and  was  liked  by  the  crew  in  proportion  as  he  was  hated  by  the 
captain,  which  was  no  small  amount.  But  he  was  not  to  be 
deceived  so  easily  by  a  novice  in  his  trade.  He  had  seen  "  boys" 
before.  So  singling  me  out  shortly  after,  he  asked  me  "  why  I 
did  not  obey  the  call."  I  answered  that  "  I  was  sick  and  couldn't 
get  out."  But  that  excuse,  which  had  so  often  before  served  me 


SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE.  341 

as  a  talisman  on  similar  emergencies  at  school,  he  heeded  not  in 
the  least.  "  If  I  ever  catch  you,"  said  he,  "  stowing  yourself 
away  again,  I'll  haul  you  out  by  the  ears.  Now  remember  it." 
And  I  did  remember  it,  Mr.  White,  not  only  to  preserve  those 
tender  organs  from  the  rough  tug  you  threatened,  but  also  to 
give  no  occasion  for  them  to  hear  more  such  kind  remarks.  "And 
you,  young  Dutch  chunk,"  he  continued,  "if  you  ever  stay 
away  again  half  the  night,  looking  him  up,  I'll  lash  you  by  the 
ears  to  the  main-mast."  "  Yeth  thir,"  coolly  replied  Harry. 

At  eight  bells  again,  four  o'clock — for  the  bell  was  struck 
every  half  hour — we  had  the  extreme  felicity  of  yelling  at  the 
forecastle  door,  "Larbowlines  a-hoy."  Thus  through  the  twenty- 
four  hours,  except  six  in  the  afternoon,  we  had  an  alternation  of 
watches  at  each  "  eight  bells ; "  the  "  dog  watch,"  of  two  hours 
in  the  evening,  serving  to  alternate  the  succession  of  watches 
every  other  night.  On  Sundays  and  stormy  days  we  usually  had 
"watch  and  watch" — that  is,  an  alternation  of  watches  through- 
out the  entire  day.  A  storm  never  comes  amiss  to  poor  Jack ; 
for  as  well  as  the  excitement  which  he  longs  for,  it  brings  him 
more  resting  spells. 

Let  me  now  present  to  you,  kind  reader,  our  crew  at  meals. 
Around  the  forecastle  sit,  each  on  his  own  chest,  one  or  both 
watches,  as  may  be.  Out  from  among  the  dirty  clothes  in  his 
bunk,  each  one  pulls  a  basin,  quart  cup,  and  spoon.  The  boys 
bring  in  from  the  galley  and  set  down  in  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
two  or  three  kids  of  food,  out  of  which  all  help  themselves.  At 
eight  o'clock  comes  breakfast ;  but  such  a  breakfast !  That  eter- 
nal "  scouse  !  " — a  mushy  mess  of  sea-biscuit  or  potatoes  boiled 
up  with  bits  of  salt  meat.  Then  each  had  his  "pot"  of  the 
black  extract  of  burnt  peas,  with  a  little  molasses  in  it,  vulgarly 
called  coffee.  These,  without  butter,  salt,  or  seasoning  of  any 
kind,  for  we  never  had  those  luxuries,  constituted  our  unvarying 
morning  repast.  At  noon  we  fared  a  little  better,  for  variety  at 
least.  Twice  a  week  we  had  molasses  with  "  duff " — a  bag  of 
flour  boiled  solid  in  salt  water ;  twice,  vinegar  with  beans — i.  e. 
water-gruel  with  a  sprinkling  of  beans  in  it ;  twice,  corn  meal 
mush  ;  and  for  the  odd  time,  boiled  potatoes,  which  relished  re- 


342  SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE. 

markably  seeing  that  we  could  get  nothing  but  rock-salt  to  eat 
them  with.  Supper  is  easily  told.  Salt  horse-flesh,  barley-meal 
and  saw-dust  sea-biscuit,  and  each  man  a  quart  of  a  decoction  of 
some  villainous  herbs,  a  little  "  bewitched  "  with  molasses.  This, 
Captain  Howe,  was  the  good  living  you  promised  us !  Yet  in 
New  York  you  were  thought  to  be  decently  honest ;  some  even 
thought  you  to  be  temperate  and  gentlemanly ;  but,  alas !  how 
speedily  does  the  salt  sea  wash  off  a  scaly  virtue !  Your  portly, 
manly  figure  very  much  belied  your  moral  qualities. 

But  I  must  pass  over  several  days,  during  which  we  had 
steady,  fair  winds,  and  were  constantly  bowling  along  under  all 
our  canvas,  and  with  every  stu'n-sail  set.  We  were  now  on  the 
"  Banks,"  groping  on  through  that  everlasting  fog,  which  settles 
like  night  on  those  dark  shoals.  Oh !  that  driving,  drizzling, 
drenching  air !  How  many  shivering,  wretched  hours  have  I 
spent  in  it,  so  cold  and  damp !  Nothing  is  impervious  to  it. 
Often  have  I  cast  off  three  and  four  dripping  duplicates  of  ordi- 
nary garments,  and  wrapped  myself  in  as  many  wet  blankets,  to 
enjoy  a  short  oblivion  of  trouble  and  discomfort.  It  was  on  one 
of  these  dismal  nights,  while  we  were  on  the  Banks,  just  as  our 
watch,  which  had  gone  below  wearied  with  hauling  in  studding 
sails  for  several  hours  together,  had  fallen  comfortably  to  sleep, 
that  we  were  suddenly  startled  by  a  loud  cry  at  the  door — "  all 
hands  !  shorten  sail !  "  As  soon  as  possible  we  were  out  of  our 
bunks  and  hastening  half  dressed  to  the  quarter  deck.  The  wind, 
which  had  risen  during  the  night,  was  now  blowing  a  gale,  driv- 
ing fiercely  against  us  mingled  sleet  and  spray.  The  sea  was 
capped  with  foam,  and  on  its  whitened  surface  our  ship  was 
wildly  plunging,  careening  her  bulwarks  almost  to  the  water's 
edge.  "  Hurry  up  here  !  Hurry  up  here  !  "  roared  the  captain, 
who  was  clinging  to  the  mizzen  shrouds  to  windward.  "  Clew 
up  the  royals  and  top-gall'nt-s'ls  !  Haul  up  the  courses !  Lay  up 
and  furl !  "  And  command  followed  fast  on  command,  answered 
ever  by  the  hurried  "Ay,  ay,  sir,"  till  all  sound  was  lost  in  the 
din  of  flapping  canvas  and  clattering  ropes.  I  had  been  aloft 
several  times  before ;  and  was  now  only  awaiting  an  opportunity 
to  learn  that  first  and  hardest  duty  on  ship-board,  to  furl  a  royal. 


SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE.  343 

So,  heedless  of  storm  and  darkness,  I  soon  found  myself  follow- 
ing Lee  up  the  weather  main  rigging.  Over  the  ratlins  we 
clambered  lustily ;  now  into  the  "  top,"  and  now  upon  the  "cross- 
trees."  Here  clapping  hands  and  feet  to  the  large  "  stays,"  we 
"shinned"  up  to  the  royal  yard.  Making  up  and  fastening  the 
"bunt"  in  the  middle,  we  each  ran  out  on  the  "foot-ropes,"  with 
the  end  of  a  "gasket"  between  our  teeth,  which  we  wound  taut 
around  both  yard  and  sail,  and  bringing  it  in  fastened  it  to  the 
"  tye,"  when  our  royal  was  furled.  Thence  slipping  down  again 
we  were  soon  on  deck. 

Often  since  then  have  I  recalled  the  peril  of  that  first  adven- 
ture, when  scarce  a  week  at  sea,  and  in  a  midnight  gale,  I  found 
myself  swaying  and  quivering  with  the  blast,  in  the  highest  part 
of  the  ship — now  forced  to  cling  with  all  my  might  to  the  yard- 
arm,  and  now,  in  a  lull  of  the  wind,  passing  another  turn  of  the 
gasket — at  one  moment  bending  with  the  mast  far  down  towards 
the  water,  and  at  the  next  rebounding  with  feet  flying  in  mid-air. 
And  I  have  wondered  that  I  could  so  carelessly  have  gazed  into 
the  dark  scowling  sea  beneath,  and  so  recklessly  laughed  at  the 
howling  storm.  Yet  such  were  but  common  occurrences.  To 
the  sailor,  these  scenes  are  the  romance  of  life,  the  theme  of 
"yarns,"  in  the  leisure  hours.  As  such  I  too,  though  young, 
enjoyed  them ;  and  nothing  ever  pleased  me  more  than  a  frown- 
ing sky,  and  a  cresting  sea  along  the  distant  horizon.  When  I 
reached  the  deck,  I  was  bare-headed,  my  oil-jacket  as  near  wrong 
side  out  as  possible,  my  inner  raiment  flying  at  loose  ends,  and 
every  part  of  me  soaking  wet.  Finding  the  sails,  except  the  top- 
sails, already  stowed,  I  hastened  down  to  the  forecastle ;  whither 
boy  Harry  came  soon  after,  in  even  worse  plight  than  myself. 
He  was  swearing  away  "  how  he'd  be  down  on  that  dam  Dimmy 
Duckth.  The  thkippy,  he  thend  him  up  to  the  miththen  r'yal 
mit  me.  And  he  don't  can  do  a  dam  thing.  He  hide  in  the 
4  top.' "  And  so  indeed  it  was.  Poor  Jimmy  had  not  the  heart 
to  make  his  first  essay  on  such  a  night;  and  accordingly  had 
stopped  at  the  "lubber's  hole,"  leaving  Harry  to  furl  his  sail 
alone. 


344  SKETCHES    OF    SEA-LIFE. 

During  the  next  day  we  set  all  sail  again,  and  passing  off  the 
Banks,  suddenly  emerged  into  pleasant  weather.  But  we  were 
rolled  about  most  wantonly  by  a  tremendous  sea,  the  relics  of  the 
last  night's  gale.  Thus  speedily  every  thing  settled  again  into 
the  usual  round  of  day  duties,  "wash  decks"  in  the  morning, 
"pump  ship,  the  watch,"  and  "hold  the  reel,  boys,"  every  eight 
bells,  and  "braid  sennet,"  or  "make  mats  for  chafing  gear," 
when  there  was  nothing  else  to  be  done. 

It  was  one  afternoon,  not  many  days  later  than  this,  as  there 
was  a  sly  inkling  among  the  younger  and  lighter  portion  of  the 
crew  that  the  remaining  part  of  the  day  would  be  devoted  to  the 
peculiarly  unpleasant  duty  of  "slushing"  the  upper  masts,  when, 
lo!  and  behold!  boy  Harry  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  Immedi- 
ately every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  ship  rang  to  the  loud  cry— 
"  Boy  Harry ! "  "  Boy  Harry ! "  It  happened  to  fall  to  my  lot  to 
rummage  the  forecastle  for  him  ;  when  hunting  for  some  time 
all  alone,  I  at  last  heard  a  low  whisper,  issuing  out  from  a  heap 
of  rubbish  in  the  back  side  of  a  bunk — "Charley!  Charley!  The 
mate  he  find  me,  he  athk  me  vere  I  thick,  vot  I  tell  him  ?"  "  Tell 
him,"  said  I,  "you  are  sick  to  the  stomach."  "Yerebethe 
thtomich?"  Pointing  out  its  locality,  I  hove  another  blanket 
over  him,  and  was  forthwith  busily  engaged  again  tumbling 
chests  about,  when  the  chief  mate  stepped  in  and  commenced 
the  search  for  himself.  We  must  now  introduce  to  the  reader, 
Mr.  Beattie,  our  first  mate,  a  most  skillful  seaman,  but  a  narrow, 
conceited  soul ;  who  dwelt  most  rigidly  on  the  "minor  points  of  the 
law,"  and  seemed  to  think  his  reputation  depended  on  his  petty 
tyranny  over  the  boys.  After  searching  some  time,  he  at  last 
stumbled  on  Harry,  buried  in  his  dark  nest.  And  out  he  hauled 
him  to  view  rather  roughly,  asking,  with  many  pretty  adjuncts 
to  his  speech,  what  he  was  stowed  away  in  there  for  ?  "  I'th 
thick,  thir— Oh!  hard  thick  in  my  thtomich  thir."  "That's 
your  case  then,  is  it  ? "  said  the  mate.  "  I'll  soon  fix  you  out." 
So  aft  he  hurried,  and  in  a  few  minutes  came  back  with  a  wine- 
glass nearly  filled  with  castor  oil.  The  instant  Harry  saw  what 
the  game  was  to  be,  he  seized  the  glass  from  the  mate,  applied  it 
to  his  lips,  and  quicker  than  thought,  its  contents  were  gone. 


SKETCHES   OF    SEA-LIFE.  345 

And  the  officer,  turning  about,  stalked  off  in  all  the  pride  of 
conscious  cunning.  Ah,  Mr.  Beattie,  if  you  had  had  the  dilated 
pupils  of  my  eyes  in  that  dark  corner,  you  might  not  have  been 
quite  so  well  pleased,  as  you  saw  your  medicine  taking  rather  an 
external  route  to  the  digestives  of  that  mischievous  lad.  Of 
course  it  was  several  days  before  boy  Harry  could  do  any  more 
work ;  and  of  course  he  presented  a  most  doleful  appearance, 
especially  when  any  officer  was  in  sight. 

Onward  and  onward  we  ploughed  through  the  wide  waste,  not 
once  being  obliged  by  contrary  winds  to  turn  from  our  course, 
and  frequently  cleaving  the  waters  at  the  rapid  rate  of  fifteen 
knots  an  hour.  On  the  evening  of  the  sixteenth  day  out  from 
New  York,  the  bold  shores  of  Lizard  Point,  on  the  coast  of  Eng- 
land, loomed  into  view.  Passing  this  almost  within  the  distance 
of  a  stone's  cast,  we  sailed  on  up  the  Channel.  And  when  morn- 
ing again  broke  upon  us,  we  were  standing,  with  shortened  sail, 
off  the  blue  hills  of  Normandy.  Oh !  glorious  sight !  For  what 
though  lovely  France  be  now  raving  in  a  wild  crazy-fit,  and  with 
bloody  arm  is  dealing  death  to  myriads  of  her  sons;  her  soil 
will  give  us  respite  from  the  ceaseless  tumble  of  old  ocean,  and 
we  long  to  look  on  her  beauty.  During  the  morning  a  French 
pilot  boarded  us,  arid  we  again  made  sail.  Ah !  what  a  noble 
sight  do  we  present,  as  the  gallant  St.  Denis  dashes  by  the  light- 
house and  along  the  pier,  and  a  thousand  delighted  eyes  are 
fastened  on  us  from  the  shore.  "  Starboard  the  helm  ! "  "  Let 
go  all  halyards !"  "Drop  the  larboard  anchor  there  for'ard!" 
"  "What !  cable  chain  parted  ? "  "  Let  fly  the  other ! "  And  here 
we  are,  safe  moored  in  one  of  those  beautiful  basins  which  inter- 
sect the  maritime  city  of  "  Havre  de  Grace." 

For  want  of  time  and  space  to  continue,  at  present,  these 
desultory  sketches,  I  must,  kind  reader,  leave  you  at  this  part  of 
the  narrative. 


